The long slow goodbye
by inkydoo
Summary: Meryl is caught between a rock and a hard spot trying to figure out how to "take care" of Knives. Oh, Vash is there alright, but doesn't have a clue. Is it "kill or be killed?" How will Vash handle Meryl's decision? How will Knives? Post-anime, manga bits
1. chapter 1

What was she doing? What the hell was she going to do? How in god's name had she ever gotten herself into this situation?

Currently, she was curled protectively around a _very_ distraught, _very_ alone, and _very _scared gunman. The fact that she was so close to him was drowned out now by the alarm and panic that she tried to keep stuffed down inside her. Overreacting wouldn't help the situation one bit.

'_Overreacting?'_ Meryl almost laughed at herself. She tried to stop her brain from producing ten news reel's worth of apocalyptic imagery.

If there had ever been a time where an over-the-top reaction would be excusable, expected even, then this would be that time.

'_Facts. Cold, hard, logic.'_ This is what she needed to keep herself under control. _'Don't think about the consequences. Vash needs you to keep it together. Just keep an eye on the big picture. Don't think about the complications. Don't think about the death, the destruction, the impending doom…'_

This tactic wasn't working either.

A slight movement from the man who had his head buried in her torso brought her attention to the present. He must have picked up on her anxiety because his body had become rigid again and he held on to her more tightly. She went on auto-pilot as her hands played with his hair in a small attempt at comfort. Her body curled so readily into his and her hands traveled over him like it was familiar territory. For a split second, she realized she was in a dark room, in someone else's bed, curled up next to the person most people thought of as "the most dangerous man on Gunsmoke." If only they knew the truth…

Yes, this was almost what she had been wishing for.

'_Yes…it would be almost perfect,'_ she thought, _'except that MANKIND'S GREATEST THREAT IS JUST A FEW DOORS AWAY AND THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN CONTROL HIM IS CURRENTLY WHIMPERING LIKE A CHILD IN MY LAP AND DOESN'T HAVE ANY CLUE ABOUT HOW TO DEAL WITH HIM!'_

She hoped she had only screamed that in her head and not out loud.

She realized now that when Vash left to do battle with his brother, she wasn't entirely sure how he was going to stop his brother, but she had trusted so completely in him that she was sure he had a plan. She was sure that he would come up with a way to defeat his brother. She was so sure…just like a child who was certain the change left under her pillow really was from the tooth fairy and not from her well-intentioned, yet deceitful parents.

Oh god…if she had known he was going into this blindly, she would have secretly tagged along and put a bullet in Knives' head herself.

But right now, she just tried to think of other things. She tried to think about Vash and not his genocidal brother who was only being kept unconscious thanks to a pin-prick full of sedatives given to him at regular intervals.

Her heart was racing again. She was pretty sure Vash was asleep, but if anyone would notice, it would be him, and she didn't want the jack hammering in her chest to wake him up.

Just two hours ago, she had been blissfully ignorant of Vash's current dilemma. He had been ignoring her for what had felt like forever, but had, in reality, been only a few days. He came into town with his brother and had assured Milly and herself that everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to work out. Nothing could possibly go wrong now.

Famous last words…

Oh, she would gladly pay a million double dollars to go back to the point where her biggest problem was deciding if/when she should confess her feelings to the stupid broomhead!

That night, she'd decided he had ignored her long enough and waited up for him that night. She rationalized it as something other than stalking, telling herself that he was still her assignment and it was unacceptable for him to hide things from her. She steeled herself to counter his evasive maneuvers, but when he stumbled out of Knives' room looking so incredibly lost, all her posturing dissolved. He quickly covered with a plastered smile, but she knew something was very, very wrong. He looked thinner than usual, if that was even possible. Even the old pair of jeans and the shirt he wore looked tired.

"Hey…what are you doing awake?" He looked between her and Knives' bedroom door nervously.

Oh no, she thought. He is not getting away this time. "Vash," she said sternly, "We need to talk."

To her surprise, he took a deep breath and seemed to acquiesce. "Alright. Let's go into my room. I don't want to wake up anybody else." He walked towards his door and she self-consciously followed behind him.

She entered the room and watched him turn on a lamp and rub his face with a calloused hand. In every movement and every gesture, she could tell that he was tired. He was worn out. He looked like a wreck, and the smile he had on was starting to look like a mask that was beginning to crack. Had she actually looked at him recently? She had wondered how he could have possibly become so rundown in such a short amount of time.

He sat at the small table in his room and told her to have a seat. She noticed the bed didn't look like it had ever been slept in. Had he been sleeping at all? She'd pushed the thought out of her mind.

"Vash," she started quietly, softly in a "middle of the night" voice, "what's wrong? What's going on with you?"

As usual, he had denied any sort of problem.

She'd shook her head and looked at the table as she adamantly said, "No, I'm really serious. I know you've been ignoring Milly and I know you've been ignoring me. I know it has to do with Knives, and I just wish…" She sucked in a deep breath to finish her request. "I just wish, you would let us know what's wrong so we can help you."

She looked up now to see even more cracks in his mask. Everything about him screamed that he was on the verge of breaking, but he still wore that smile, which was beginning to look more and more like a pathetic clown mask.

"You and Milly…you already do too much."

Sudden anger burned inside her. She had kept her worry and anxiety over him bottled up for too long as it was, and there was no way he would be able to pass it off as nothing this time. "Why do you always have to be so damned self-effacing! If you need help, then let me help you!" She tried to calm herself down, but the attempt was proving futile. "Why can't you just tell me what's wrong? I can handle it. I've followed you through thick and thin! I've followed you through everything! What is it? Do you not trust me?" She was speaking much more harshly than she had meant to, but she couldn't help it.

"Please…please understand…" He was starting to look desperate.

"How can I understand if you don't tell me anything?" She was trying to calm herself down.

He looked down and inhaled deeply. "Meryl, I just wanted to tell you that tomorrow…"

Oh no. Not again. She didn't want to hear what he was going to say. He refused to make eye contact. This was bad. Inside, she started to panic.

"…Tomorrow, I'm leaving with Knives."

Meryl hung her head low. There was no holding back the tears this time. She put her hands to her temples and took a few deep breaths to try to calm down enough to speak. She began quietly. "Then what…what was the point of coming back at all?" She hadn't felt this empty since Augusta. But Sad Meryl was quickly succumbing to Angry Meryl. "Did you just want to shove in my face the fact that you don't need me around?" How had that slip out?

She was feeling righteous indignation…until she looked at his face. She'd never seen someone look so desperately lost in her entire life. "No…no. Never. I never, ever meant to make you feel like that. Never." He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. "But I just can't stay here any longer. I have to leave." He took a deep breath. "And I don't think I'll be back."

"What!" She was near shouting again. Sure, she had just about accepted that he was never going to return her feelings, but this was too much of a blow at one time. "What are you talking about, Vash? Why won't you be back? Please!" Meryl realized at this moment that for all her posturing, she was not above begging. "Please," she whispered, "just tell me why."

He let out a small, desperate noise. It didn't sound anything like a dam bursting, but that's what it signified. "I've tried my hardest to keep you safe and out of harm's way. I don't know what more I could have done. I don't know. I just don't know anymore." He was running his hands through his hair nervously, searching for the right words. "But I wouldn't be able to bear it if you hated me. I just wouldn't be able to bear it."

Meryl was caught off guard by Vash's sudden change in demeanor. She moved closer to him and took one of his hands in hers. "Vash, why would I ever hate you?"

"Because!" He looked down, his whole body slouching. "Because of what I've done." His shoulders were beginning to shake.

"Vash…Vash…shhhh…" She tried to calm him down. "I don't understand. Tell me what's wrong."

All of the sudden, his entire body buckled, and his arms were around her waist and he was sobbing into her stomach. "Knives!"

She jumped at the sudden contact, but tried to keep her eye on the ball. She thought back to the last time she saw him. Had he died under Vash's watch? "Is he alright?"

Between sobs, he managed to reply. "He's getting stronger. Soon, he'll be conscious again."

Meryl let his words sink in. "Wait. Do you mean to tell me…"

Vash cut in. "I don't know! I don't know what to do with him! I thought it would be obvious after we fought, but now, now…" He held Meryl tighter. "Now I don't know what to do!"

Instantly, her blood turned to ice. Her brain stopped processing for a moment. She decided to deal only with facts.

Vash was telling her the problem: Good.

Knives was the problem: Bad.

Vash didn't have a plan to deal with said problem: Bad. Double bad.

She tried to get control of her panic. She started taking deep breaths. She was still alive. There was still time. All they needed was a plan.

Eventually, she made her way back to the present and realized Vash was still holding on to her, apologizing over and over again. It took all her self control not to flip out right then and there. Somehow, she kept the anxiety in check as she put her hands through his hair and tried to calm him down. "Come on," she said as she tried to lift him up. He was reluctant to move, but he sat back up anyways.

He looked at her, his eyes full of guilt and desperation. "Meryl, I am so sorry to have involved you this far. I just…I just didn't want to disappear without seeing you again. I just wanted to feel like I belonged for as long as I could, and I've risked so much." He scrunched his face in a look of pure disgust. "I am so selfish."

She stood up and pulled him with her. She led him to the bed. He sat down. They were right about at eye level. "It's going to be ok. You're taking so much responsibility onto yourself."

"Aren't you scared?" Meryl had to remind herself she was talking to a 130 year old man and not a seven year old child.

"Of course I'm scared." Oh man, that was the biggest understatement since the Fall. "But we'll take care of Knives. We just have to make a plan."

"But, I can't—I can't—" He started to stutter.

"Stop," she commanded. He looked at her silently with guilty eyes. "You've got to get a hold of yourself or you won't be any good to anybody." She looked down slightly before saying, "I need you to get through this."

She had no idea whether he had caught the subtle ambiguity in that statement or not, but he did look to relax a bit. Orderly Meryl took over. She motioned for him to take off his boots. He complied silently. She pushed his shoulders down toward the bed. She turned to cut off the lamp, but Vash caught her arm. His eyes looked so horrifyingly sad and lost. He looked absolutely sure she was going to leave and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Was this the face that he was always hiding under that smile?

"I'm just…going to turn off the light," she managed to say. No one had ever looked at her this way before. He didn't relax.

She found herself immobilized by that look in his eyes. She was instantly weakened, instantly vulnerable. He was asking her to stay with him, and she didn't know how that could be possible since he wasn't saying anything at all. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she thought she had heard his voice, deep and pleading. She somehow broke eye contact and made her way to the table. She turned off the light and pulled a chair to the side of his bed. She felt intensely guilty for leaving him all alone after Legato's death, and she promised herself she would never let her cowardice hurt Vash ever again. Besides, since Vash was the only one who had ever successfully fought Knives without dying, she did feel a little safer with him, even if he currently was an emotional wreck.

She had intended to watch over him as he slept, but he pulled her towards him in a sudden crush. She had forgotten how strong he was. After a few seconds, she found herself on the bed with her knees tucked into his chest and his head nuzzled into her torso. After the initial shock wore off, she curled around him and found her hands automatically smoothing his hair. In the moonlight, she noticed that the roots of his hair had gotten darker. She thought it odd, but wasn't about to ask.

In the darkness, she could feel his body finally relax and drift into sleep. Only at this point did she allow herself to begin freaking out. In the silence and the stillness and the darkness, she put two and two together and the realization hit her like a punch to the gut: Vash hadn't had a plan. Ever. She felt sick as intuition told her that if she hadn't stopped him from leaving, she really never would have seen him alive again. She had seen that desperate, suicidal glint in his eyes before.

She tried to clear her mind. Vash had finally admitted that he needed help and she was going to do everything she could to help him. She would need sleep if she was going to be able to form a plan of action in the morning.


	2. chapter 2

Warm.

Dark.

Still.

Calm.

As he lay silently in the darkness, he couldn't remember the last time he felt like this. It must have been decades since the loneliness last consumed him this way. He tried not to think about all the years spent alone and roaming around the desert. How many times had he turned away from refuge knowing his brother might destroy his protectors? How many years had he spent craving some kind of companionship?

He tried not to get intoxicated by this current sense of closeness. He knew it wasn't meant for him. Cuddled up so closely to this little human, it just reminded him of how very un-human he was. He was still trying to find out exactly why he was here. He agonized over it every day.

More than a century had passed, and everyone he had touched during that time had died. He was so afraid of simply being near another living thing. His brother would surely make him pay. But...his brother lay unconscious and Vash needed to remember. He needed to remember why suicide was a bad idea. He needed to remember why his plan of taking his brother into the desert with him and doing away with the both of them was a bad idea. He needed to remember that there were people that did care about him and would help him…still a bad idea…

He kept his eyes closed in the darkness and tried to block out all other thought. He just wanted to lay wrapped up in this fleeting moment of comfort. He needed a break from the isolation. He needed to feel something other than anguish and guilt and pain and rage. He needed to feel like he was not a murderer, not a monster, but simply someone worth caring about.

He thought back to Wolfwood for a moment. The double agent (maybe even triple) had been the closest Vash had ever come to having a best friend. Now he knew what it was like to rely on someone else to have his back. Going into the world alone again scared the shit out of him.

He didn't want to be alone. More than anything, he didn't want to be alone ever again.

He automatically tightened his arms around Meryl and she let out a sigh in her sleep. This brought him into the present, and automatically he reminded himself to back off. He couldn't help it. Distance was safety and pain all at once. He wanted to run away and leave town right this instant, but he also wanted to get lost in salvation, the salvation this girl didn't even know she was giving to him.

"_I wouldn't run away…" _

The words played over and over in his head. Sometimes, that slip was the only thing that kept him going. They were words she hadn't meant to say, but she had said them, and he knew they were probably four of the most honest words she had ever spoken.

She was young, wasn't she. He had scars older than her.

He wanted to give in and not do anything ever again. He wanted to lay there and let the cards fall where they may. He wanted to stop being the hero that everyone despised. He wanted to…

Damn it.

There was so much he wanted, and he knew if he stopped now, he wouldn't get any of it. He had to get out of there before he lost his resolve. There would be time for lamenting the past later. There would be plenty of time for that.

He lingered a moment next to Meryl before silently untangling himself from the girl. The regret was beginning to hit him; the regret of knowing. He knew he'd remember this for the rest of his long life. This moment of kindness he had so needed would shine brightly against the pale background that was the rest of the life he'd spent on this planet. He sat in the edge of the bed with his back to Meryl and attempted to rub the tiredness and sadness out of his face with his hands.

It was still dark, but he had to get up. He had to figure out what to do. He had to take his brother somewhere else.

* * *

Cold…why was she so cold all of the sudden?

No blanket. That must be why.

As the cogs in Meryl's analytical mind began to turn, she automatically reached out to the space on the bed next to her. Something was missing here. She cracked her eyes open and saw the light from the first rising sun.

Morning already?

She opened her eyes, expecting to see Milly's twin bed across the room from her, but she was greeted with the sight of a plain adobe wall.

Everything from the previous night suddenly came back to her.

She inhaled a sharp intake of breath and automatically patted the side of the bed where Vash had been the night before. She whipped her head around to the foot of the bed looking for his boots.

They were gone.

Her mind was reeling. Her chin was trembling. Her eyes were watering. She thought she might have heard herself say his name, but she couldn't be sure. She launched out of bed and towards the door.

He couldn't have gotten far.


	3. chapter 3

She reached the door. She threw it open. It banged hard against the wall.

"MILLY!" she shouted, all business. She ran to the hall closet, the one with her pink suitcase. "Milly, we've got to go!" She tugged frantically at the pink contraption. She saw her friend enter the hall out of the corner of her eye.

"Sempai, what's wrong?" Milly watched as Meryl tugged canteens and boots and goggles and dusters out of the closet and into a big pile in the hall. Frankly, it was a little frightening.

Meryl didn't pause. "Milly." This suitcase was harder to dislodge than she thought it was going to be. "…Vash…" She sucked in a breath, and then TUG! It finally popped out, throwing her off balance a bit. She fell down, the air in her lungs squished out for a moment, but she scrambled back to her feet. There were a lot of necessary supplies in this closet that they would need.

Milly was confused. "What about Vash?"

Meryl, a little winded, finally stopped all her thrashing about and looked at the junior partner. "…Vash, he--"

Before she could say anything else, Meryl heard a voice from the kitchen chime in. "Yeah, what about Vash?"

All her nervous movements stopped. Her jaw nearly hit the floor.

She heard the folding of a newspaper and then saw a spiky head pop out of the kitchen door. She saw the last face she expected to see and she stood there like a dopey idiot, not knowing how to recover.

Nobody said anything.

Milly looked warily at Meryl. Meryl stood in the hall, looking at Vash. Vash looked at the mess of travel gear from the kitchen.

Vash finally opened his mouth. "Say, insurance girl, you planning on making a trip? That's great! Becau—"

Meryl's unsure voice broke in. "You…you're still here?"

He was surprised by the emotion in her voice. "Yeah…yeah. I'm still here," he said, his demeanor instantly changing.

Silence again. Milly watched her friend's head drop to look at the mess of travel gear on the floor. Meryl felt embarrassed. She wished for Milly and Vash to go into the kitchen so she could start the day over, but they just stood there staring at her.

Milly tried to break the tension. "Meryl, Vash made breakfast, and it isn't burned!" She heard a little hurt noise come from the gunman. "He also has something important he needs to talk to us about."

Meryl looked wearily around her. She needed to process this sudden change in the situation. She needed to regroup. She needed to hide. "I think…I need to take a shower first."

Milly sputtered. "But, but, Meryl, he said it's impor—" Just then, Meryl finally made eye contact with Milly, and the big girl could see all the unshed tears in her sempai's eyes.

Meryl was quiet, but in control. "I need a shower."

"O-okay," Milly stuttered.

Meryl suddenly turned and stared daggers at Vash. "You WILL be here when I get out, right **Mr**. Vash?"

"Yeah, yeah, YES. Most DEFINITELY!" He was falling all over his words. That look in her eyes…she'd never been this open with her emotions before. "I will be here…in the kitchen…when you get out," he finished quietly.

"Good!" she half-yelled, turned one hundred and eighty degrees in the direction of the bathroom, and walked off without another word.

Vash sank back into the kitchen, a little dazed. He unfolded the newspaper automatically, but his mind was on the situation that had just taken place. These days, she only addressed him as "Mr. Vash" when she was really upset with him. She thought he had already left, and it had hurt her…bad. He should have just stayed in his room until morning, but he was only trying to avoid an awkward scene.

He obviously sucked at avoiding things.

As he stared blindly and guiltily at the newsprint before him, he heard a click to his right…a quiet click…the kind a gun makes when its safety is switched off. He slowly looked over to see Milly's face crumpled in protective fury.

He saw Milly, but not before he saw that her huge stungun was trained squarely on him

He jumped back and put his hands in the air as quickly as he could, the newspaper accidentally torn in half and thrown in the air during the process.

"What did you do to her, Mr. Vash!"

"I? What? Huh? I didn't… Why do you think it was me?"

"Don't be cute, Mr. Vash! You know you're the only one who can make sempai cry!"

Hold on a second: information overload.

* * *

Meryl took a few moments to compose herself. She went over the facts:

Last night, she had offered comfort to a friend

She (and the rest of humanity, by the way…) was in very real danger at this very moment.

This was not about her.

If she just stuck to the facts, she could keep herself from getting upset. While she was pretty pissed (not embarrassed, of course not!) at Vash for seeing her behavior earlier this morning, she was whole-heartedly relieved that he was still there. She tried not to get too sentimental.

But truth be told, she didn't know how to act around Vash anymore. She was pretty sure they were only friends, but still… All this honesty in the air was really screwing with her brain.

* * *

Vash had managed to talk the infamous Stungun Milly down. He had convinced her that he really was the same fun-loving, peaceful doofus that had been juggling eggs that very morning for her enjoyment. He put a plate of food for the short girl in the oven as Milly let out a torrent of confession. He listened to her talk about how Meryl always acted like this when he got out of their sight. He listened to her talk about how Meryl was completely inconsolable after the fifth moon incident. He listened to her talk about how Meryl would wait on the cliff every evening until the sun went down to get a better view, just in case he showed up.

Milly must have been feeling particularly guilty for sticking the stungun in his face because even she didn't normally talk this much.

Just as Milly was about to launch into another round of confessions, Meryl walked into the room. He got up quickly and got the plate of food out of the oven for her. She smiled a little at him and sat down to eat. She really was hungry.

Milly piped up. "So, Mr. Vash, what's the big announcement?"

Before Vash could say anything, Meryl cut in. "Milly, let me finish breakfast first. I've got a feeling that after we hear what he's got to say, I'm not going to have much of an appetite."


	4. chapter 4

So this was how it was going to be.

She figured there was only one place on the entire planet that would have even a fraction of the equipment and old technology needed to contain Knives. She tried to pay attention as he outlined his plan, but she couldn't understand how fast Vash's demeanor had changed. Last night, he'd been a completely useless wreck. Today he was as go-get-em as anybody could imagine. Sure, she'd grown used to the mood swings, but when she actually stopped for a moment and thought about it, he really was a puzzle.

She watched him while he talked. He had established a communication link with the fallen SEEDS ship via his pen/radio doohickey. He'd gone to the pharmacy and gotten all the sedatives they had in stock. It would last them just over two weeks. It would normally take them 3 to get to the ship, so they needed to drive in shifts, driving all 24 hours in each and every day. No other towns were even remotely close to New Oregon, so they'd have to make it work with the supplies they had.

"Cutting it close." That was a much more fitting motto for Vash than "love and peace."

He spoke in calm, confident tones, with words that almost had her convinced that last night's episode had all been a dream. But when he suddenly looked over at her, she saw the uncertain glance he gave her, and realized this was a long way from over. She looked over at Milly. If that girl had any doubts in her head, they weren't showing up on her face. She sighed quietly. She hoped that the doctor aboard the ship would have a better idea of how to contain Knives than his brother did.

He asked if they wanted to accompany him. This was more for Milly's benefit than anybody else's. He knew they were going to come along, whether they wanted to or not.

After the conversation, Vash said he had toclose the dealon the truck he'd bought that morning. Meryl watched him walk out of the house with little more than an inaudible sigh, and then went straight to packing. The group was accustomed to picking up at a moment's notice. Hell, Vash himself lived out of one duffle bag. Milly took care of getting Knives ready for the trip. She had picked up basic veterinary skills at her farm and was quite handy with a syringe. Meryl busied herself with organizing the hallway. There had to be a more systematic approach to packing besides dumping everything she was going to need onto the floor. Organizing things put her in a trance-like state. As long as she had a variety of small tasks to carry out, she felt like she could maintain her sanity.

She quickly packed her pink suitcase. She laid out all the bed rolls, dusters, and goggles they would need. She picked up a spare duffle bag and rummaged through the kitchen. She pulled out 3 sets of eating utensils, a pot, a skillet, all the non-perishable food they had (which was mostly pudding), some bowls, three cups, a cutting board and two kitchen knives. She put everything but the cans, skillet and cutting board into the pot, and placed all the items in the bag. She set the bag by the door. She got a small overnight bag and went into the bathroom. She noticed all of Vash's things were already packed. She grabbed some toiletries and her hairbrush and left the room. She put that bag inside her suitcase. She attached her type writer to her suitcase. She grabbed all the canteens and went to the sink. She filled each of the 6 individual canteens with water. She capped them and put them by the door. The big water tanks were outside. She'd have to fill those in the bathtub.

She hauled the four big water tanks inside. She put one under the faucet and filled it to the top. She capped it and struggled to move it out of the way. She put another one under the faucet and repeated the process. She managed to squeeze the third one into the bathtub. She filled it and capped it. Three full...and no more room for the fourth. She tried to lift one of the tanks out of the bathtub, but gravity was defying her. She stood on the rim of the tub and tried to get more leverage, but it was no use. She was getting frustrated. She wiped her arm across her forehead and just as she was about to give the laws of physics what for, she heard an amused chuckle behind her. She turned quickly to see a smiling Vash behind her.

"Hey, those are almost as big as you are. Let me give you a hand." He walked in and easily picked up two of the tanks.

She watched him as he left the room and put the tanks by the door. Her trance was broken. She was back to thinking about the utter destruction of the entirety of the human race on this little planet and the manic mood swings of one Vash T. Stampede. Without thinking about the task, she put the last of the tanks under the tub faucet and started filling it up. Vash walked back in. He looked at her downcast face.

"Meryl...something wrong?" he questioned as he went down for the third tank. She looked up at him.

"Do you..." Do you know what you're doing? Do you think you can keep Knives from killing everybody? Do you really have a plan? Do you... She couldn't finish the sentence.

"Do I...what?" He looked down at her questioningly

She shook her head quickly. "Do you...think this is going to be enough water?" Ugh...what a dumb question.

Vash laughed, seemingly relieved. "Yeah, I think this'll be enough." She looked back down at the tub, turned the faucet off, and capped the last tank. She felt a strong hand patting her back. "Hey...um...don't worry about it. You're doing a...um...a great job."

She started blushing. She kept staring down. "...Thanks...I...just feel bad leaving the house with so much stuff still in it." WHAT? In all honesty, they were taking almost everything they owned. They'd left several houses in pieces, in ruins, and even on fire. This landlord was getting off pretty easy by stampede standards.

He picked up the two remaining tanks. "Well, I'm sure it's fine. Come on. I thinkwe're ready to go."

"Yeah, ok. I'll be right out," she said without looking at him. It was funny how the idea of inevitable doom could destroy any kind of romantic thought in her brain, but just one innocent pat on the back could bring it all to mind again. She splashed some water on her face to cool her cheeks and then left the room.

After Vash imposed an official mandatory "potty break" for everyone (what a goof), he and Milly finished packing the car and got Knives into the bed of the truck. Meryl took a moment to look around the town. She saw people living their lives, kids playing in the street. This town was full of life. She wondered if this would be the last time she'd ever set eyes on a town again.

She felt a light tap on the shoulder. She turned around. It was Vash. He scratched the back of his head.

"Are you ready to go?"

She looked around her one more time. "As ready as I'll ever be." She turned to walk to the car, but he stopped her.

"Hey, I actually...um...got you something while I was running errands this morning." He pulled a package out from behind his back and handed it to her. "I hope you don't mind."

Her eyes got wide. "For me?" She took the package. It was heavy!

He kept scratching his head, embarrassed. "It might not be your style, but hopefully it suits you."

She looked at the package, and then at him one more time, and then tore into the paper surrounding the box. She popped the lid off of the box, trying to contain her excitement. When she saw what was inside, her heart sank a little, but she managed not to drop the box. She couldn't stop the sarcasm. "Gee, Vash, you sure know how to make a girl feel special..."

He laughed a little, "I know you're used to the derringers, but I saw this, and we're going through some prettydangerous terrain, and I just thought it might be easier to reload a gun with a magazine instead of having to deal with all those little guns. You know what I mean, Meryl?"

She looked at him when he said her name.

He continued. "I'm going to need some backup, and you're the only person for the job."

She smiled at him, and regarded her present with newfound respect.


	5. chapter 5

Road trip: the term was archaic English for a type of routine excursion on Earth. He knew people still called them "road trips," but the desert expanses didn't have anything to build a road on. He remembered the old file feeds from the SEEDS ship. It never ceased to amaze him how tenaciously people clung to a sense of normalcy, even when everything was going to hell around them.

There was sand for iles around them in every direction. The monotony usually caused him to get lonely, but with the girls around, it wasn't so bad. Still...with them around, it reminded him of the person who was missing. He knew the girls felt it, too. Wolfwood's warm, cynical, charming presence had been replaced by a cold, uncaring, and seemingly lifeless body. When he drove over those desert plains at night, he thought every once in a while about the freedom he'd have if he just had the wherewithal to stop the car, drag his brother's body out of the truck, and put a bullet in his head. But he knew he couldn't do it. He wouldn't be able to live with himself after that. Rem died for Knives, too...right?

He knew the humans weren't perfect. They lied, they stole, they killed, they hurt each other over and over again. Hell, they hurt him over and over again. He subconsciously rubbed the metal grating over his chest as he thought. But they were capable of so much more than hate and violence. He just couldn't understand why they couldn't see that themselves. That was the worst thing about Knives' logic. In all probability...his brother WAS right about humans: their fear drove their violence and they usually didn't stop to try to understand what they were afraid of in the first place. He kept telling himself that the real reason humans acted the way they did was because of the hardships they had to endure on this planet, but every so often, Vash had to ask himself which of the two brothers was really the one playing god. Vash wanted to tend the ant farm, while Knives liked melting his charges with a magnifying glass: two beings who both had the power to see their vision through... There really didn't seem like a place for them to fit into this world.

He looked over for a moment at the girl in the passenger seat. Meryl was scrunched up against the door with her head rested on her arm. He was glad to see her getting some rest. She usually didn't sleep well on trips. Her partner, however, was another story. Milly was asleep on the bench seat behind them, snoring. He wondered if it really was a good idea to bring them. If something happened to them, he would never forgive himself. Besides Doc, they were the only real friends he had.

He turned back to the desert in front of him. When he was bored, thinking too hard, or the driving got too monotonous, he'd usually pick on Meryl for relief. She was asleep though, so that was out of the question. When he thought about it, though, it wasn't as much fun as it had been in the past, really. She was getting quieter, reacting less to his poking. She would look out the window like she was trying to remember everything, to take in everything she could...even if it was the same for iles and iles. This worried him to no end. What was bothering her? Had she lost faith in him? Did she still trust him? He didn't want to think about it anymore. He rolled the window down and the cool, dry evening air came in. The wind was picking up. There looked to be a sandstorm coming on.

They had been driving for a week. They were making good time. Every 4 hours, they took a break and made sure Knives was still sedate. Meryl had stopped picking on him about his driving skills days ago. Since the car ran on plant cells that needed to be recharged, he turned out to be the fuel source, but he barely felt the drain, really. Nothing a five minute nap couldn't fix. They hadn't run into anybody the entire time despite rumors that slavers patrolled this area. He was almost beginning to think that this would work, that Doc would be able to help him, and that Meryl had it all right when she told him he needed to put a little more trust in others.

He noticed a small noise to the right and looked over to see a groggy Meryl looking around. She rubbed her face.

"Is it my turn to drive, yet?" She stretched as much as she could within the confines of the cab.

Vash laughed a little. "No way. Milly and I just traded off 2 hours ago. Go back to sleep."

She sighed. Her voice was flat. "I can't. I keep having the same dream over and over."

Vash frowned and looked at her again. "Was it a bad dream?"

She looked at him incredulously. "Vash, are you any good at analogies?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "...I guess so..."

"Let's just say," she started, looking out the window at the suns as they made their way below the horizon, "that it would be like...if every single donut was blasted into oblivion and the recipe was lost forever."

The truck suddenly swerved erratically, but kept moving at a frightening speed.

"VASH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" She clawed at the arm rest to steady herself.

He was hyperventilating. "Sorry, sorry." He tried to get his breathing under control. "That was just...the worst thing...I've ever heard..." He looked over at Meryl, his face full of concern. "It must have been a very, very, bad dream then."

She felt pinned in his gaze and felt a blush coming on, but quickly broke eye contact. She looked away. "Come on, stop teasing me!"

He looked away dumbfounded, confused at her reaction to his concern. He looked back at her. "What do you mean teasi--"

"LOOK OUT!" She pointed in front of them. He saw something moving in the headlights and swerved to miss, throwing the breaks on just in time. A cloud of sand surrounded them, obscuring their view of the object in the road. Vash had both hands on the steering wheels, the knuckles on his right hand going white. Meryl looked over at him. He looked back, shaken.

Milly suddenly popped her head up. "Oh, but I couldn't possibly eat another bite!" She looked around, confused. "Hey guys! What are you doing at the First Annual Interplanetary Pudding Convention!"

Meryl and Vash looked at each other for a split second. Without a word, both jumped out of the cab.

From opposite sides of the truck, they approached the organic object in their headlights carefully. The dust kicked up by the abrupt stop was still hard to see through. Vash was amazed Meryl had even been able to spot it in time. It was darker than the sand surrounding it, and only about one and a half feet cubed. It moved and Meryl jumped. Vash kept approaching. He put his gun away and knelt down next to the object. He started talking softly to it. She approached and was startled to see the object was actually a little girl. She had injuries on her face and arms and she looked severely dehydrated. He reached his hand towards her, but she cowered away from Vash. He looked up at Meryl helplessly. She quickly looked down at the gun in her hands and holstered it as fast as she could. She knelt down along side him, in front of the child.

"Hey sweetie," she cooed. "What are you doing out here by yourself?" As the female voice hit her ears, the girl looked up at Meryl. She couldn't have been more than 8 years old, maybe even younger. The girl unexpectedly launched herself into Meryl's arms and started crying. She shushed her and looked back at Vash.

"I think we need to get out of here. I'll check on Knives. Get her into the cab." He turned and ran to the back of the truck.

Milly finally got out of the cab. She ran towards Meryl. "Sempai, what's going on? OH MY GOSH! What's this little girl doing here? You must be lost. Where did you come from? Where's your family?"

The little girl looked up. Her tears were washing paths down her dirty face. "I've been hiding from the Bad People. They took my mommy."

Meryl and Milly looked at each other. It had to be slavers.

Vash quickly made his way around the truck to the back. He could feel something was wrong, but he couldn't quite tell what it was. In the back of the truck, Knives had fallen off his cot and some of the vials of sedatives were broken, but he was unharmed and still unconscious. Vash cursed as he gathered his brother up and repositioned him on the cot. They needed that medication if they were going to get to the SEEDS ship in time. He put his hand to his temples and rubbed, trying to clear his head. Everything was ok. They would just have to move their schedule up 12, maybe 16 hours. He scanned the truck one last time and caught a glimpse of his brother's relaxed face. For a split second, he was back on the ship with Rem and they were in the rec room eating lunch and playing chess. He felt so far away from that memory.

Then a gun went off.

Meryl and Milly were tending to the girl when a bullet took out one of the headlights on the truck. They looked around, scared out of their skulls. Somebody was out there. Had they followed this little girl? They huddled in the light of the remaining headlight. Meryl tried to scan the horizon, but she couldn't see beyond the headlight's beam. She caught a voice.

"Damn, Chief, you were right. Letting the little runt go was a great chase..."

A whistle.

"Well, lookie lookie what we've got here, boys. I do believe we've hit paydirt."

Milly grabbed the girl and ran to the cab. Meryl rolled to the side of the truck and pressed her back against the front tire. What the hell was Vash doing back there?

Another voice: "Aw sweethearts, don't be like that. We were just getting started... Don't you pretty things even think about going nowhere."

A torrent of gunshots erupted into the front end of the truck. Two tires went flat with a loud hiss. Somebody shot out the remaining headlight. In the dark, Meryl could now see what they were up against. In the moonlight, she could make out the silhouettes of 5 gunmen. Slavers. Meryl found herself wanting to spit. These scumbags made their living off of the misery of other humans, usually teenagers and children. She was itching to shoot them.

These guys were nothing they couldn't take care of. They would have to do it fast, though. Meryl could smell the fluid leaking from the engine. That was bad news. While her education on lost technology left a lot to be desired, she knew a few important things. Plant power was something akin to nuclear power, and if the machines that used it were damaged, they could contaminate the immediate area. One thing was clear to her, though. This truck was not going to be getting them to the SEEDS ship any time soon.

She took aim at the gunman who seemed to be furthest from her. She aimed at his shoulder and squeezed off a shot. He went down. Just as she'd hoped, the other thugs turned around to see their accomplice on the ground in pain. She resisted the urge to thrown the weapon down. She took aim at the second furthest and hit him in the thigh. Then three rapid shots above her rang out and the remaining slavers fell to the ground. She looked up to see Vash standing on the truck.

He hopped down and landed in front of her. He looked down. He opened his mouth to speak, but a gun fired and a bullet made its way through Vash's thigh. His leg buckled. Meryl looked around frantically and saw one of the slavers hadn't been entirely subdued. She aimed quickly and shot the man once in the shoulder and once in the leg. He screamed once and then continued to whimper every so often.

Meryl looked back to Vash and saw him tearing the bottom of his shirt to make a tourniquet. He tied the strips around his upper thigh tightly. The wind was picking up now and she thought she could hear engines off in the distance. No doubt it would be more slavers to help out their buddies.

"Vash, are--"

"I'm fine. We've got to find shelter." He tried to stand. He sucked air through his teeth. "Where's the kid?"

"She's in the cab with Milly..."

"Ok, just don't let her start the tru--"

Meryl heard the engine turn and suddenly the entire front end of the vehicle exploded into a huge fireball. Meryl and Vash had to dodge out of the way to avoid the shrapnel. And with that, Murphey's Law had officially laid waste to any and every thought even related to the idea of this trip going as planned.


	6. chapter 6

A/N: Hey guys. Is anybody reading this? If so, is anybody _enjoying _this? Do you guys **hate** this story? Just wondering. I'm going to finish the story, but reviews make it easier.

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Walking through the desert was unpleasant enough by itself, but add to that a gunshot wound in the leg and another body and you're suddenly talking unbearable. But when you're running on adrenaline, fearful for the lives of those you care about, somehow it's easy to forget the pain. 

And Vash was trying to think about anything besides pain when he lost his footing and tumbled down a sand dune. Milly was in front with the kid and Vash's bag, Meryl was in back keeping an eye out for any more attackers. She saw him fall down, his brother landing in the sand. She ran over to him. First she was full of pity, but somehow, that was swallowed by a sudden burst of anger.

"Why don't you let Milly carry him, Vash! You're injured!" she growled.

"No." _This is my burden._ He started to get up slowly.

The bullet must have hit an artery because he was losing blood quickly. She looked in horror at the place where he had fallen in the sand. Already there was a puddle of bloody mud. She sucked in a sudden breath, scared for him, but again her anger seemed to trump all other emotions.

"MR VASH THE STAMPEDE! YOU ARE NOT CARRYING HIM ONE STEP FURTHER!" She ran up the dune and shouted for Milly to come back.

Vash ground his teeth together and looked around. He didn't want any help, he shouldn't have even involved them, but arguing with Meryl was going to waste precious time that they didn't have. "FINE!" Meryl stopped in her tracks. She wasn't expecting a reaction like that. As Milly made her way back, he took his bag from her and continued walking.

Meryl looked at him as he trudged forward. A tinge of guilt suddenly nagged at her. She hadn't meant to get mad...but he could just be so stubborn! He didn't even look at her when he walked past. _He's in a lot of pain... He must be mad because i wasn't able to cover him. Wolfwood never would have been so sloppy. _Feeling like a total disappointment, Meryl took the little girl and helped Milly pick up Knives.

Despite his longer legs and his lighter load, the girls caught up with Vash in a matter of minutes. They were headed for shelter: a cave the little girl had been hiding in for the last few days. She said it was big enough for all of them to fit in, and it seemed like the only place they would be able to weather the approaching sandstorm.

"It's there!" the little girl shouted. "Just over that dune!"

Meryl groaned. More sand. That's all this planet was made of. The wind was whipping around and starting to sting her face.

They made their way inside the cave. It was almost pitch black. Milly laid Knives down by the mouth of the opening. The little girl nearly leapt out of Meryl's arms and ran towards Milly. Meryl tried not to let it hurt her feelings. Milly was just better with kids.

Vash pulled a flashlight out of his bag and turned it on. He shined it. Meryl and Milly gasped. This wasn't a cave...this was an old mine. And from the looks of it, it went far underground. There weren't any minerals except for quartz to be mined, and what was the point in mining quartz when you could just melt sand and get the same thing? No...something about this place triggered a memory in Vash. The metal that supported the mine was old, and it looked like it was pulled directly from one of the seeds ships. And there were pipes that ran along the walls. When he was younger, he remembered people trying to dig for water. This must have been one of those attempts. There must have been a settlement close to here. Whatever happened to it, the desert had long since swallowed it up.

Vash absentmindedly tossed Milly another flashlight. After a short trek, the mine split into two tunnels.

"Hey look!" he shouted with mock cheer. "A girls' side and a boys' side!" He picked up his brother and started walking down the tunnel to the left. He was getting tired, nothing was going as planned, and he was losing a lot of blood. He needed to stop and rest or else he was going to pass out. Then Milly would have to lug around two bodies, and it would probably piss Meryl off, too.

Meryl watched as he walked away. Milly was cooing to the little girl, who's name was apparently Lil. Considering the circumstances, Meryl hadn't even thought to ask. As Vash walked farther and farther away, uncertainty overtook her.

"Um, don't you think we should...stick together?" Meryl shouted.

Vash stopped and turned around, but before he could answer, Milly piped up. "Don't worry about it sempai! Exploring is fun! You can go with Vash, we don't mind!"

And with that, the only two points of light diverged in opposite directions. Meryl hesitated for a moment before choosing the path to the left. _Someone has to keep an eye on him_, she thought to herself. _I mean, it_ **is** _my job afterall._

As she approached the light, she heard a series of rapid clicks. When she got closer, she saw that Vash had the pen out and was pushing the top of the pen up and down quickly. He was sitting down with his back against one of the walls. His eyes were closed. He looked worn out. His brother was propped up against the other wall.

Meryl stood there for a moment, but when her presence wasn't acknowledged, she spoke up. "Vash, what are you doing?"

He opened his heavy lids. "It's Morse code. I'm trying to send a message to Doc on the SEEDS ship."

Meryl could picture it in her head. "SOS SOS SOS MAN'S DESTRUCTION IS HERE STOP PLEASE BRING TWO BOXES OF SEDATIVES SOME ADAMANTIUM RESTRAINTS AND A CASE OF WILD TURKEY STOP LOVE AND PEACE STOP" Who in their right mind would answer a distress call like that?

After a while, the clicking stopped and Meryl looked over at Vash. "How will they get to us in time?"

"They have some airships. They don't like to use them unless it's necessary." He cracked open an eye and looked at her with a smirk. "And considering the situation, I think it's necessary."

For some reason, Meryl took that last comment as a personal attack. He'd basically told her, in so many words, that he'd expected her to be his backup, and she couldn't even do that right. Now what good was she to him? She was just the nag that always followed her around. If she'd been paying attention, maybe they would have seen the slavers and they would have been able to make the trip as planned. She wanted to say she was sorry. She wanted to say those three little words. The air was in her lungs, ready for confession, but something stopped it before it could get out and turned it into:

"Let me take a look at that wound."

"Come on, Meryl. I'm fine." His voice was gravelly with fatigue. He didn't even bother opening his eyes.

Well, no point in backing down now. "I'm serious! You're badly injured!"

He took a deep breath and tried to stave off his frustration. He looked at her. "Believe me, it's fine."

"Vash, it's going to get infected!" she shouted. "Let me look at it NOW!" She stomped her foot on the ground.

Then a funny thing happened (and it's funny only in that hindsight kind of way). Before either of them knew what was happening, there was a loud noise and the ground beneath them gave way.

That's the last thing Meryl could remember when she regained consciousness. She saw Vash's worried face over her as he lifted heavy chunks of rock off of her. Her head ached and when she moved her right foot, there was an excruciating pain in her lower leg.

"Don't move, ok Meryl?" He looked so worried.

"Ummhmmm," she mumbled. She felt dazed. She slowly realized that they must have fallen through the floor. She didn't know how far they had fallen. It could have been three floors, it could have been ten.

Vash turned around and yelled upward. "She's ok Milly. I want you and Lil to stay close to the entrance. It's not safe here."

She heard Milly's reply, but she didn't pay much attention. Her head was buzzing with pain. Vash touched her arms, checking for injuries. He felt around her ribs and tummy. When she didn't react, he went down to her legs and touched them lightly, stopping when he heard her whimper. He fished a knife out of his bag and cut her tights up to the knee so he could get a better look at the injury. Her shin was bruised and swollen. It was probably broken. He picked her up gently and carried her over towards the light. Her head hurt and she didn't want to move, but she didn't put up a fight.

Vash looked around him. He needed something to splint her leg with. There was some metal in the debris that looked like it would do the job. He got some rope out of his bag and approached Meryl. "This might hurt, but it'll only hurt for a little while, ok?" She nodded dumbly.

He took an old shirt and wrapped it around her leg. Then he took the long pieces of metal and arranged them on either side of her lower leg. He tied the strips on with the rope. Meryl winced, but she could handle it. She wasn't saying much and it was starting to worry him.

"Meryl, can you hear me?"

"Mmmhmmm." Her eyes were closed. She felt warmth on her cheeks.

"Look at me."

She opened her eyes slowly to see Vash staring intently at her. He was looking deeply into her eyes and was cupping her face in both his hands. He gently pulled her closer into the light, closer to his face. Her eyes snapped open.

"V...Vash?"

He kept looking at her. "Shhhh."

Was he going to kiss her? She began to lower her eyelids, and that's when it happened:

Vash pulled open her lower eyelids with his thumbs.

Her eyes popped open as her eyebrow began to twitch dangerously. "...Vash...What are you doing?"

He backed off. He put his hands up innocently. "I was checking to see if you had a concussion. You weren't saying much."

She pushed him off of her and spun around, only to be greeted by ice-cold blue eyes staring at her.

_Knives is awake._

_Scream._

_Scream._

_**SCREAM!**_

She couldn't make a sound. She tried to move, sliding her good leg frantically on the ground, moving backwards. She ended up backing into Vash. He looked down and saw the terror in her face. He followed her line of sight to his brother. He saw Knives' eyes slightly opened and he knew instantly what she was thinking. Fortunately, what she was thinking was wrong.

"Meryl...it's ok. He's still unconscious. I just gave him some more sedatives." He didn't bother to tell her that they only had a few doses left, what with the gun fighting and the exploding and the falling...

She backed up to the wall next to him and pulled his prosthetic arm around her. "This arm has a gun in it, right?"

"Yeah...but right now...it's aimed at me..."

"Shut up."

He could feel her shaking up against him. He tightened his arm around her a little bit. "It's going to be ok." He looked around. "Hey, want to see a trick?"

Meryl exhaled slowly, trying to calm down. "Um, ok."

Vash closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he opened his eyes, he looked intently at his bag as if to will it towards him. He reached his hand out, and...

and...

Nothing.

"Damn," he laughed, "it never works when someone's watching." Meryl scoffed at him as he leaned over and grabbed the bag the good ol' fashioned way. He pulled out his flask. He took a swig and offered it to Meryl. "You look like you need a drink." She cocked an eyebrow. "Come on, it won't hurt."

She seemed to remember a cautionary after-school special that started with this kind of dialogue. Still, she was rattled. Maybe a quick drink would help calm her nerves. She took the flask and took a swig. Her throat burned and her cheeks felt hot. Even she knew she was a lightweight.

She handed the flask back to Vash and he took another drink. Then he poured a little bit on his wound, he could feel the bullet already working itself out of his leg. He winced.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You were the one worried about it getting infected." He offered her the flask again, but she waved it away. With a shrug he took another swig and then screwed the cap back on and tossed it into the bag.

They sat like that for a while, his arm around her, she looking at his brother. They didn't say much. Then the tongue-loosening effects of the alcohol finally took hold.

"How can you be so calm?" she asked thoughtfully.

"I don't know, but it wouldn't do any good to freak out now, would it?"

"How very pragmatic of you."

She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. As she leaned up against him, she thought how simple the old days were, when she didn't even believe that Vash was "the Stampede." Now she was stuck underground in a sinkhole with a broken leg and the one being who wanted to bring about the destruction of mankind...and actually had the ability to do it. _This could be it,_ she thought. _This could be the last chance I have to tell him._

"Vash?" Her voice was unsure.

"Mmmhmmm?" He seemed to be dozing, but she always wondered if he really actually slept.

"I...I've got something to tell you." Should she just blurt it out? "It's something that I've wanted to tell you for a while now, and I never had the chance before, and I just...I need to tell you, because..."

"Hmm?" He opened an eye and looked down at her.

"Because this might be the last chance I get." She took a deep breath. "Vash, I--"

He put his other hand over her mouth, suddenly completely awake. "STOP." She looked at him questioningly, frightened. "Meryl, I'm not going to sit here and listen to your final words." He took his hand away from her mouth. "We're going to get out of this, ok?"

She shook her head, afraid to speak. There were already tears gathering in her eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm just..." _Might as well be honest._ "I'm just...scared! I'm TERRIFIED!" The tears started falling. She leaned into him. He was a little surprised, but quickly pulled her in a little tighter.

"It's gonna be ok. I won't let Knives hurt you. We're going to get through this."


	7. chapter 7

He was dozing on and off...not really sleeping. His mind was sharp as his body rested. Meryl was lying on the ground, using him as a pillow with her head on his uninjured thigh, in the concave of a scar that seemed perfectly carved out for her. She was facing away from him. He'd decided to feign unconsciousness in an effort to avoid any uncomfortable situations, but the longer they spent down there, the more he realized how comfortable he felt around her.

"I know you're awake." He barely heard her whisper in a way that guaranteed she didn't know if he was awake at all. "Are you still mad at me?"

He yawned and stretched his arms out wide. He scratched his head. "Me? Mad? At you? Why would I be mad at you?" He'd actually thought she was mad at him.

She rolled over and looked at him. "I just got the feeling...after what happened...and you getting shot..."

Oh, _that's_ why she was being so quiet. "Oh, come on. You know that wasn't your fault. We got ambushed. I wasn't paying attention." He looked away. "I was worried, and I was in pain, but I wasn't mad at you." He looked back at her. "So don't sweat it, small stuff." He smirked down at her.

She cocked an eyebrow at the remark, but let it slide. She took a deep breath and sighed, dropping eye contact and instead looked at his chest. "I just don't want to be a burden... They say nothing but bad luck and misery follow you...and if I can do my part to prevent it..." She trailed off self-consciously realizing what she was saying, turning as she did to face the opposite wall. "But," she started proudly again, "if you're not mad, then I _suppose_ I won't apologize."

He smiled a little. He was quiet for a moment. "You know...not everything that follows me is bad."

Meryl turned over at that, rolling her eyes at him. "Yeah right, mister. Like what."

"Well," he started quietly, thoughtfully, "there's you."

He could hear her sudden intake of breath. She propped herself up on her arm, getting closer to eye level, and that's when he saw it so clearly. That look in her eyes: she wanted so badly to believe him, but...couldn't? He doubted what he saw. Surely she must have known how important she was. How could she not?

Suddenly, something in his tired heart broke for her. She tried to stay so closed up, so under control, but that one look she gave him told him everything. At some time in the past, she had been different, trusting, and someone had ripped her tender heart out and given it back in a thousand little used pieces. He didn't know who had done it, be it a careless boy or a workaholic father or an insensitive mother or an overbearing boss, but it really didn't matter. Someone had hurt her deeply, to the point where she refused to put her trust into anything but cold, hard fact.

She pushed up and slid backwards to sit against the wall next to him, not touching him. She'd been leaning on him for hours, so the sudden loss of contact was a surprise to him (and it surprised him even more that he noticed at all). She was looking down at the floor. She propped her chin up on her left knee and hugged it to her chest, obviously conflicted over his words. And for some reason, seeing her like this, it made him incensed. They hadn't sent her after _him_: Vash, the silly skirt-chasing lunatic who let little kids clobber him and liked to consume equally large amounts of Wild Turkey and donuts. They'd sent her after "VASH THE STAMPEDE," the outlaw, the womanizer, the murderer, and everything else that entailed. They'd sent her to the Outer, most likely expecting that truly terrible things would happen to her, that she'd never return. And it wasn't that she wasn't capable, because she obviously was. He just didn't understand how _anyone_ could have let a girl like her...go...

"Are you drunk?" she asked bluntly, quietly, in a flat tone.

Her words cut through his thoughts. "Me? What? N-NO!" he sputtered. His jaw clenched. He wanted to say something else, anything else, but his mind was blank. He just stuttered for a moment more until she started talking again.

"Vash...I..." She took in a deep breath. She knew it needed to be said. She spoke quietly, but her words felt heavy. "I'm...really...sorry." She kept her eyes on the ground, afraid to look at him. "I don't know why I would say something like that." She was quiet for a moment, and then continued, talking mostly to herself. "I don't even know why I treat you the way I do most of the time...just forget it..." She trailed off again, not really knowing what to say next. She didn't know what to do next. She didn't even know what his words had meant. She knew what she _wanted _them to mean, but as her father always told her, "to assume makes an ASS out of U and ME." It didn't matter anyway. She'd probably just ruined any chance of anything.

She heard a metallic object clink on the ground. She looked over. Vash picked something off the ground. He inspected it for a moment, rolled it around in his hand, and then said, "Hey, want a present?"

Suspiciously, she eyed him. She'd...actually...apologized, and he wasn't gloating or even really acknowledging it. Maybe he really had forgotten it. How dare that broom head finally start to follow directions _now_! Still, she was curious. "O...kay..." He held his fist over her and she held out her hand. A flattened, circular chunk of lead fell into it. She looked up at him, confused. "A spent bullet?"

"Yeah. It just worked itself out of my leg. Cool, huh?" She looked at it, startled, with sudden understanding and dropped it almost immediately. He smiled at her reaction. "See?" He ruffled her hair playfully, but stopped when she started growling. He laughed nervously. "No harm done...right?"

The tension was already lifting. He smiled to himself. They were getting pretty good at hanging out. This was starting to feel...well..._normal_. Now, if only he could wrap up this trouble with his brother...

She watched as he moved closer to Knives. As she looked at the unconscious man, she found it hard to believe how jovial Vash still managed to be. If it wasn't for him, she'd be tearing her hair out. But this was her _job_. He was her _assignment_. She wasn't supposed to be comforted by his presence as much as she was. He wasn't supposed to act like he cared. And they definitely weren't supposed to enjoy each other's company. But...that's exactly what was going on...and it felt _great_. Earlier, he'd held her close, talked her down, and kept his arm around her for far longer than necessary. But...she was so unsure, and not just about him. She was unsure about everything: about whether or not they were even going to get out of this mess. Vash said there were airships on their way, but with his luck, she had to wonder...

She watched him as he picked up a vial and drew out its contents with a syringe. She felt like some invisible barrier between the two of them had finally been breached.

She told herself it was probably caused by being submerged in such a stressful situation. She'd always heard from other field agents that it was a recipe for...well...disaster, especially when business and pleasure collided. But it was just another hazard of working in the field. She remembered that as a young recruit, she'd scoffed at her superiors. Nothing like that could ever come over _her_...

He held the needle straight up, tapping the syringe a few times to coax all the air bubbles to the top, careful not to give his brother an embolism. She laughed at herself. Thinking about a love affair on the job...under _these_ circumstances? Who was she kidding? And if stressful situations really drove people into one another's arms, well, then she and Vash had been in enough tight spots to fuel a small town with the amount of sparks they _should have been_ giving off. She sighed deeply. It was a nice theory. Maybe something was wrong with her. Maybe something was wrong with him.

Suddenly she felt it: something really_ was_ wrong. She felt an oppressive presence fall on top of her. She would have puked if she'd had anything in her. She looked around, saw the confusion on Vash's face, and followed his line of sight to see a broken syringe and piercing icy eyes staring at her with unadulterated hatred.

Then she passed out.

Through the darkness of unconsciousness, she became vaguely aware of a strange sensation: it felt like her skin was crawling with electricity. The atmosphere was charged with it. She slowly resurfaced. She still felt pushed down by the heavy air, but she managed to prop herself up. She saw an incredibly eerie sight in front of her: Vash was huddled in a corner, holding his right arm; his face was twisted in pain. Knives was sitting across from Vash; small feather-like tendrils protruded from his arms which turned into thin blades before evaporating into the air with a static crackle. He looked exhausted, like he'd been trying to regain control of his body for hours. She suddenly realized she had no idea how long she'd been out.

She sat, silently terrified, and watched Knives as the protrusions got thicker and longer before evaporating. His body...it was changing... Vash hadn't told her about this. And then a truly scary thing happened: he formed one that didn't evaporate. Knives looked at his brother, the blade long enough to reach Vash. Meryl looked at Vash's huddled form. Had Knives already injured him? Knives brought his blade-arm back, as if to slice through Vash.

At that moment, her body made a decision that didn't have anything to do with her brain. She found herself limping, then jumping, then falling in front of Vash. She spread her arms wide in front of him. He sucked air in quickly in a gasp. Knives stopped his forward motion altogether and looked at her. And he...started...to laugh.

"Stupid fool. You don't even know who to fear."

She looked at him, confused. She turned around to see Vash, his eyes full of worry for her. Something was wrong with his arm.

"Meryl," he growled through clenched teeth, "get away from me!"

Get away from him? But they were in a hole, with absolutely nowhere to go...

Knives took in the scene before him, realizing the potential victory that had just presented itself. "Isn't this lovely?" he quipped. "You can take this trash out for me." He sighed. He knew his brother was close to losing control. "I've already been the recipient of the business end of your arm, and after all, I _am_ very tired, Vash."

He leaned against the wall as if watching television.

"What's...what's..._what's wrong with you!_" Meryl screamed as Vash's arm began to glow and expand. Her ears started to pop. His arm was forming into...some kind of bark-like...gun structure. It was longer than he was tall. There were strange faces at the tip and a ball of energy contained between bark-like structures at the center. Long feathers sprouted out of the back of his shoulder.

He looked at her face and saw the terror in her eyes. _You're a monster_, someone else's almost-forgotten words echoed clearly through his head, and he hoped she wasn't thinking the same thing. He looked around. There was no place for her to be safe. She was too close. She was going to die. He was going to kill her! His body, which he didn't even know anything about, which he hated, which he couldn't even control, he was going to kill Meryl!

It was getting too hard to hold back the flow any longer. He was going to lose it at any second. He made a split-second decision that he hoped would work. He let go of his angel arm and pointed it at the sky. At the same time, he scooped Meryl up and held her against his body. He was desperate to save her. He never got hurt...maybe she would be safer close to him. Her eyes were open, looking straight into his, silently questioning him. _What's going on? What are you? Am I going to die? _

_You're going to save me...**right**?_

_Oh god, Meryl,_ he thought as he looked at her, _you trust me too much_.

* * *

A/N: Hey people are reading this! And the awesome reviews I got just make me want to write more! Hopefully this chapter is up to snuff as well. Thanks Redcliff, Aine, Igbogal, and Angelstryke!

Wow...reviews DO make me write faster :)


	8. chapter 8

a/n: WOW! THANK YOU GUYS FOR SUCH AWESOME REVIEWS! You guys really make writing this story so much fun! Here's the next chapter (might want to read the last few paragraphs of the last chapterfor recap).

* * *

As the arm powered up, something strange came over Meryl: a sense of quiet anticipation. She almost forgot where she was. The power that was swirling around Vash seemed to be going through her, through them both. Where there had been white noise filling the air, now there was peaceful silence. There was so much power, but with it she felt so much sadness. She wondered where all of it was coming from. She opened her eyes and saw Vash looking at her with fear written all over his face, and she remembered. Oh yes...her life was in danger. Right...Vash really _wasn't_ human. And...let's not forget...Knives was conscious.

She'd known it all before, but now the truth was undeniable. The funny thing was, she didn't really mind.

The angel arm went off almost immediately after Vash scooped her up, but she somehow had time. She had time to put her ear to his chest and wrap her arms around him. She had time to experience the flow of energy that she had somehow become a part of. She had all the time in the world to savor the weight of the strong arm holding her against his body. She experienced a vague sense of floating. And she felt so much power.

She couldn't even imagine.

The broom-head who scarfed down donuts, the guy who constantly stuck his foot in his mouth, the same man who acted like he didn't have a care in the world, the man who cried at nothing, the man who loved everything...he was the source of this power. The more it built up, the more intoxicating the feeling was. No wonder Knives was so willing to use this power. _She_ felt superior, and she was just a bystander.

The energy seemed to swirl around the two of them, pulling them closer together, drawing something out of her, and she began seeing things...memories...that hadn't happened to her. She didn't try to stop it. It was...painful, in a way...but she let it wash over her. She would sort it all out later...if she remembered any of it...

Suddenly, there was a rush of air as the energy focused at the top of the angel arm. It pulled her up. She wanted to go with it. Nothing else mattered at that moment. It was so intense...

so intense...

so much power...

too much...

At that moment, a blast of energy, the magnitude of which seemed incalculable, tore through the rocky layers above them and made its way into space where it hopefully could do no more harm.

* * *

_Closer..._

She took in a deep breath. She felt sunlight warming her body. Her mind felt strangely clouded, but her head didn't hurt. Whoever she was lying next to smelled really good. She snuggled her head closer to his neck.

_**His** neck? _

For a split second, panic raced through her. Who was she lying next to? She couldn't remember, which seemed like it should alarm her more...but something in the back of her mind told her she was alright. She felt his arms around her, and it calmed her down. It must have been someone who cared about her. She didn't remember much, but somehow she knew she wasn't the type of girl to sleep around.

She felt so safe. She stayed exactly like she was for a while. Then curiosity seemed to get the better of her and she slowly propped herself up on an elbow, suddenly interested in the face of the man she was lying next to.

She had to brush his floppy hair out of his face. It was a nice face, very handsome. He looked tired, but peaceful. He seemed older than he looked. She thought his hair was a little weird, though: mostly black with a blond chunk running along one side. She was usually a big stickler for symmetry, but for him, she apparently had made an exception. She must have liked him a lot.

She moved her hand. His hair stubbornly flopped back into his face. She sighed and brushed it out of the way again, not done looking yet. He seemed so familiar, so safe. He really did have a nice face. She lightly touched the mark under his left eye.

_Closer..._

She couldn't seem to get close enough. She sighed again. She suddenly wondered how old _she_ was...she was sighing like a teenager in love. She didn't feel like a teenager (and this guy obviously was too old to be going out with a high school student...unless he was a perv), but...she _could_ be in love. That seemed right. And the way he'd been holding her, she thought she could almost tell he returned the sentiment. Her mother would have told her she was being foolish if she'd heard her daughter say that, though.

_My mother would tell me that...wouldn't she...hmm..._

She laughed a little to herself and scooted down to lie next to him again. She put her forehead against his chest and

**BANG!**

_Damn...What the...? _

She shook her head, a little dizzy from the impact. She'd expected a nice, firm pectoral muscle, but she'd collided with...metal? Something wasn't adding up here. She felt his chest with her hand.

_Metal...grating?_

Wait...something was coming back to her. She sat up quickly and frantically unbuttoned his shirt. She noticed for the first time that the right sleeve was ripped to shreds. She took a breath and opened it cautiously.

Scars. So many scars.

She pushed the cotton shirt fully open. Now she could see his chest, his abdomen, nearly every bit of skin covered with scars. She gasped, automatically covering her mouth with her hand. She was horrified. Even though her memory was failing her at the moment, she thought she'd remember something that would cause scars like_ that_. She could now see that even one of his arms was a prosthetic. She began to run her fingers over his body, feeling the rough tissue with her soft hands, bolts sticking out at odd angles impeding her progress. Suddenly, memories ripped through her brain like an electrical shock.

_dangermerylvashunderground GET AWAY!_

She shook her head at the sudden jolt of memory. The gravity of the situation was suddenly apparent. Danger...it was dangerous here. He'd told her to get away. But...from what? She held her hands to her head, trying to will the memories to come back. She gently slapped Vash a few times on the cheek. He didn't wake up. She frantically shook him. Still no response. She suddenly realized that he wasn't simply sleeping.

And what was going on with his hair?

She pushed off of his shoulder and stood up, and was immediately seized by a foreign emotion. All of the sudden she felt so incomplete, so inadequate. She rubbed her forehead, trying to shake the feeling, but the sudden sense of isolation she was feeling almost brought her to her knees. She took a few deep breaths to get a grip and turned around, looking at her surroundings. They were in some sort of tunnel-like system. The sunshine was streaming through. There was her...there was Vash... She kept turning. There were rocks...lots of rocks. There was a hole in the wall leading to a tunnel. There was a bag...

And there was someone else.

_Knives?_

She couldn't remember whether it was a name or a noun, but the man and the word were inextricably linked in her weak memory. His lower body was covered in debris. He had a lot of blood on his forehead, but where there should have been a wound, there was perfect pale skin. Still, he seemed to be out cold...probably hit by one of the falling rocks.

_Why would the rocks be..._

For some reason, she suddenly wanted very much not to remember what had made the rocks decide to fall. A chill ran up her spine. She felt an immediate need to defend herself. She felt like she needed a weapon. She checked her person...a holster, but no gun. She climbed over some fallen rocks into an exposed tunnel. Her leg got caught on something. She looked down to see metal and rope tied around her lower right leg. She reached down and untied it quickly, vaguely remembering that her leg was supposed to hurt, but not knowing why it would or why it didn't.

She got over the fallen rock and walked carefully through the tunnel. The further she walked, the darker it got. Still, there had to be something she could use to defend herself...

A glint of something caught her eye. She ran over to it and recognized it as a pick-axe. She tried to exhume it from the wall. She tugged as hard as she could, the axe busting free of the rock and swaying over her head, balanced by inertia, until gravity pulled it down behind her. She tried with all her might to lift it up again, but it was too heavy for her. She released the handle and looked around. She felt on the ground. Her fingers grasped a smooth wooden handle and she pulled it into the light to inspect it. It was a smaller axe with a shorter handle and a head that was just a few pounds. She blew her bangs out of her face as she sighed at her good fortune. She didn't waste much time as she clumsily made her way back to the opening.

She slid down the rocks and landed in the sunlight on her knees and knuckles. Her ears suddenly started to pop. A recollection of the same sensation told her to be ready for disaster. She looked over at the man covered in rocks. She couldn't believe her eyes. Thin feather-like appendages that were coming out of his arms were pushing the rocks off of the man.

More memories flooded her mind. She staggered backwards, trying to get a hold of herself.

_Knives. He is Knives. He is Vash's brother. He is dangerous. _

She had to do something. She cautiously walked over to where he lay. She saw the feathers at work, originating from his arms.

_He is Knives. He is going to kill her. He is going to kill everyone._

Panic overtook her senses. She let out a desperate cry, realizing how little protection the old axe provided against such an opponent. Vash was unconscious and there was no one else she knew of who could come remotely close to controlling Knives. And judging by the appendages that seemed to have a mind of their own, he was obviously dangerous whether he was unconscious or not. She didn't have enough time to wait for Vash. She weighed her options heavily: choose to survive or choose to die... In her analytical mind, honed in preventing damage, her risk assessment of the situation left only one solution:

_Remove the risk, and potential damages can be avoided._

She took a deep breath, not believing what she was about to do, but she felt compelled to do something...not just for herself...for all the humans who weren't here to defend themselves...and for someone else...somebody very important to her...

_Milly..._

She started hacking. The man didn't wake up, but the feathers reacted. They blindly darted around, stabbing her in the legs before evaporating. She cried out, trying to dodge them as best she could, but with every hack, she endured more and more stab wounds. Some went completely through her legs. She sucked air between her teeth, trying to endure the pain. There wasn't much left of her once-purple leggings, and what remained was now stained a deep red.

Finally, with the last blow, the remaining bloody feathers fell still and evaporated completely. She dropped the axe and stumbled towards Vash, not believing what she'd just done, refusing to look at her own handiwork. She was losing blood, feeling light headed. She slumped against him...and suddenly she felt like everything was going to be ok again. There was something else she'd been afraid of, but the painful sense of isolation had left her and she just couldn't think of what had been the cause of it. It wasn't caused by...Vash...was it? She found a nice soft spot on him to rest her head. How could she ever be afraid of him?

She closed her eyes and didn't remember anything after that.

* * *

_Medical Report_

_Pinpointed subjects' exact location by tracking the massive energy burst from 4 days ago. Overhead observation indicated blast originated from far underground. Upon landing, encountered one Mildred Thompson, Bernardelli disaster claims agent, who described the situation to the best of her ability, but patient was suffering from dehydration and exhaustion. Much of what she said made little to no sense. Indicated someone else was in mine. Found small girl just inside mine, one "Lil," surname unknown. Girl was in relatively good health; appeared to be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder. Prefers female crew members. Further psychological testing has been ordered._

_Most of the mine has already collapsed, remaining tunnels are structurally unsound. Crew has determined that for the safety of others, explosive blasts should be detonated to prevent others from taking shelter here. _

_Crew descended to Ground Zero of explosion site. Found three subjects: Two adult males, one adult female; identified by Ms. Thompson as "Knives" (Christian name/surname unknown), "Vash" (Christian name/surname unknown), and Meryl Stryfe, Bernardelli disaster claims agent. _

_Blond male was found underneath debris. No injuries found in legs or torso, but he has suffered massive trauma to the shoulders, arms nearly severed from body, most likely inflicted through the use of a small axe found near subject. Tissue in arms is gangrenous. Emergency amputation of both arms performed on airship to prevent further infection from setting in. Fitted with cybernetic receivers to redirect nerves. Will continue surgery for cybernetic prosthetic attachment once nerves have regrown properly. Healing up surprisingly well._

_Other male has sustained no apparent injuries other than dehydration, but remains in a coma. Awaiting results of brain scan. _

_Female was found unconscious. Presumed by the pattern and amount of blood which had soaked into her clothing and the surrounding dirt that she had sustained several severe lacerations. During evaluation, however, observed only low level of anemia, a few already healing wounds on upper thighs. Wounds seem to have been inflicted by some sort of knife-like object, but these injuries must have been sustained during an earlier event. Dehydrated, in a coma. Awaiting results of brain scan._

_Eager to report findings to the Doctor._

_Signature._

_Date._


	9. chapter 9

She heard quiet voices speaking in hushed tones it felt like it was coming from outside of her head for a change. She felt groggy. She cracked an eye open to take in her surroundings. She was in a dimly lit white room filled with medical equipment. There was another bed to her left. She tried to focus. It looked like Vash. The equipment near him gave off steady quiet beeps. He was alright.

No rocks. No tunnels. No Knives. Who was she? Meryl Stryfe, Bernardelli disaster claims investigator. The airship must have picked them up. They'd made it.

She sighed, relieved to momentarily be out of danger, happy to finally be remembering the basics clearly again. She felt safe and after a moment, she concentrated on the voices she was hearing.

One sounded like it was coming from a young man, and he sounded perplexed by something. "--increased blood flow to the telltale areas, and all the readings show it has affected the patient's entire body, right through her bones, but there have never been any tumors present in any of the scans." A pause. "It just doesn't add up. Usually, they begin growing as soon as exposure occurs."

Tumors...scans...exposure? What was going on?

A reassuring, wiser voice started. "You really _are_ going to give her cancer if you keep using that scan on her. We'll just have to give it time to see how her condition progresses. Besides, this case is not unprecedented. We'll have to keep monitoring her. We know from previous cases that this kind of radioactive contamination can--"

Contamination? God no. They weren't talking about her, were they? She'd seen plant engineers' widows who made pension claims, pored over their husbands' medical reports, observed the autopsy pictures... Her heart started racing. She closed her eyes tightly. She wanted to cover her ears to block out the words, but her arms felt too weak.

Suddenly, an alarm on one of the medical machines above her head sounded. She heard somebody snap a medical folder closed and the two men approached her. The younger of the two rushed out of the room. The short, older man stayed by her bedside.

"Good morning, Ms. Stryfe. It's good to see you've regained consciousness."

Before she could ask him anything, though, somebody ran into the room sobbing and landed on her midsection. Her mind was filled with so many questions, but she'd have to wait for any answers. She looked down at the person who was holding onto her tightly.

"Oh sempai. I'm so glad you're awake!"

* * *

For the last four days since she'd woken up, her life was a blur of medical tests. She didn't know what kind of data they were collecting, let alone care. Every day, she numbly took note that Milly fretted over her health, Knives stalked his cell like a maimed animal, and Vash still hadn't regained consciousness. The doctors really weren't telling her much, really; just that she had been exposed to a "rather large amount of radiation" and they were monitoring her closely for "uninhibited cell growth."

She wished they'd just cut to the chase. When they said "cell growth," they were talking about cancer. She was going to die and Vash was going to wake up and hate her for what she'd done to his brother, only making his attempt at converting his genocidal brother all the more difficult.

In those first days, she contemplated packing up and quietly returning to December. If she had cancer, they wouldn't be able to help her on the ship, anyway. She knew she wouldn't be missed...not by Vash...not after what she'd done.

But Milly wouldn't have let her,and she reallydidn't want to leave him. She would stay, at least until he told her to leave.

This had been her job, right?

She was starting to remember the basics now, if not in exact chronological order, but she didn't tell the resident psychologist. When asked, she said the whole episode was rather hazy still. In truth, she felt like she was constantly walking through a cloud of confusion, so it wasn't really a lie at all.

Besides, she felt nervous about the whole thing, like she needed to talk to someone who had been there before she started spilling her guts to a strange doctor. The sense of isolation she felt hadn't abated, and she was becoming desperate to find someone to relate to. She even went so far as to sit in the little observation room and watch Knives thrash around his cell. He seemed more animal than man, his mutilated torso strangely unbalanced. He hadn't gotten his arms yet due to the fact that Vash was still unconscious. For a moment, even though they swore up and down that a four-inch piece of bullet-proof, one-way glass separated them, he looked directly into her eyes and she could never shake the feeling that he knew she was there.

So she waited patiently between doctor exams and Milly's mothering for Vash to wake up. Maybe he remembered better than she did. Maybe he could tell her how all these other memories got into her head...the ones that didn't happen to her...the ones that didn't even have her in them...the ones that starred him. Sometimes she felt like she could see his entire past. Either that or she was officially losing it.

In the beginning, she'd sit by his bed whenever she could. When Milly and the doctors weren't around, she even held his hand. It felt good to be near him, even if he didn't know she was there. After a few days, though, seeing him like this started to hurt. She knew he would probably snap out of it whenever his body was ready, but not having any power over the situation was making her feel useless. And the silence, punctuated by medical equipment, really didn't do anything to assuage her growing guilt.

She decided it was time to try to get back to work.

* * *

The Alarm went off. She hit the buttons blindly until the sound stopped. She swung her legs over the bed and ran her hand through her hair. It was just another day living on the working museum that was the SEEDS ship. She slipped her feet into the slippers by the bed and shuffled to the bathroom.

She looked at her face in the mirror. She gently pulled at the skin around her eyes. Nightmares and no sleep were beginning to take their toll on her skin. Three days out of the medical bay and the confusion still hadn't lifted. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair, stopping suddenly at a white hair poking up stubbornly.

"Old Meryl Stryfe," she said sarcastically to herself. "Going prematurely grey, are we? I'm _supposed_ to be 23, right?"

She pulled the hair out and rolled it between her fingers.

_Her mother was seated, looking at her reflection in a mirror. She pulled out a hair. She looked at it, then looked down at Meryl and realized she had an audience. She sighed. "Don't be like your mommy. If you pull out a grey hair, three will grow in its place." Meryl said something in reply. "Don't argue Meryl. Do as I say, honey, not as I do..." _

Her mother had told her that when she was very young, hadn't she... It was alarming that she was remembering things from her childhood with astonishing clarity, but she was having trouble recalling events that took place three weeks ago. She found it highly disconcerting.

She looked back at the hair in her hand. Maybe there was some truth to her mother's words after all. She kept finding white hairs mixed in with the black, particularly at her right temple. She'd heard old wives' tales about people being so scared that their hair went completely white. That seemed ridiculous.

Maybe it was a symptom of her "condition"... But it _had_ been a week and they hadn't found any tumors. They hadn't really _told_ her she had cancer, either. It still worried her quite a bit. Then again, no news was good news, right?

She dropped the hair in the waste basket. She ran her hand through her hair again. Another white hair stuck out. She growled a little, about to pull it out, then sighed in resignation. She put both hands on the sink. She had bigger things to worry about besides a few grey hairs.

"Face it, Meryl," she said to her reflection. "You're getting old."

Fifteen minutes later, she found herself staring at a blank piece of paper in a borrowed Smith Corona. She'd told one of the residents, Jessica might have been her name, that she'd needed to write a report. They presented her with this relic. As she looked at the museum piece, she wondered to herself why anybody would even bother to bring a typewriter onto a spaceship. She sighed, trying to break away from the daydream that was threatening to waste all her time away.

She told herself the reason she was avoiding the report was because the keys on the ancient machine stuck, or her recent sleep deprivation was making her edgy. But the longer she looked at that paper, the closer she came to admitting to herself that the reason she didn't want to write it was because she didn't want to remember it. She didn't even want to try.

The door slid open. She jumped.

"Good morning, sempai!"

Meryl took a deep breath, "Milly, don't _DO_ that!" She was already on edge. She didn't need any more help to be pushed over.

"Sorry, I was just--"

"Come on, Milly! For breakfast!"

"Yeah, well, but--"

"Whatever you say... The pudding is in the cabinet over the dishes."

Milly stopped. She started again, testing. "And where--"

"Oh, for crying out loud. The spoons are where they always are."

Milly stood looking at Meryl. She was sitting at the table in front of a typewriter with a cup of coffee in one hand and she was looking over notes in the other. She _looked_ normal...

"Are you..." Milly started.

"No, I'm not reading your mind," was the quick retort. "You _tried_ to have pudding for breakfast yesterday, too." Meryl just kept reading her notes and drinking her coffee. "You're a big girl, if you want to ruin your appetite, go ahead."

Milly thought that was a strange comment. What could possibly ruin her appetite for pudding? "Oh yeah...Hey Meryl?" She stopped to see if the question would be answered before she could ask it again. Meryl just looked at her...waiting. "Are you feeling ok?"

Meryl sighed. "Oh Milly, I'm sorry I was short with you." She looked at the blank paper in front of her. "I've got to write some semblance of a report and, well," she grumbled, "they don't write themselves."

"Oh...Is that all that's...bothering you?"

Meryl put the notes and the coffe cup down. "Honestly, a lot of things are bothering me."

Milly sat down in a chair across from her at the table. "Oh? Like...what?"

"Well," Meryl leaned back in her seat, "like...this report. I don't feel like it's...well...important." She took a breath. "I mean, I don't feel like it's important to write it." She looked at the ground with a faraway look in her eyes. She'd always had a problem articulating what she felt. "I haven't ever felt like that before. It's like...everything I thought I knew about the world is...exactly the same, but somehow _I_ don't fit into it the same way."

Milly looked at her friend. She had been acting peculiar recently. "Go on," she urged.

Meryl looked at her, unsure of herself, but she continued. "And, I've been having this weird feeling that I've been...disconnected? That doesn't seem like the right word... It's like there's something missing, like there's something I lost." She shook her head and laughed a little, "But I don't have a clue as to what it is!"

The psychologist had told her that Meryl might be feeling weird. Post traumatic stress disorderwas what she'd called it, right? Meryl had been through a very traumatic experience. She'd told Milly to encourage Meryl to participate in familiar routines, but nothing seemed familiar anymore. Writing reports didn't even seem to do the trick. "Have you...visited Vash lately?"

Meryl groaned and pushed the heels of her palms into her eyes. "Not today." It was hard looking at him in that hospital bed, surrounded by beeping machinery. She felt so powerless to help him. It was strange how she'd rather take care of him herself in a dirty one room apartment than have doctors who were well-versed in lost technology look after his health.

"Do you want to go?" Milly questioned her innocently.

_Yes, but not by myself._ "Were you planning on making a visit to the medical bay?"

Milly smiled. "Yeah, right after I had...some breakfast..."

She smiled at Meryl and laughed, and then Meryl started laughing a little. It was a nice sound for Milly to hear. "Okay," said Meryl. "I guess I can tag along."

* * *

Meryl swung her legs back and forth. She was sitting on the empty bed next to Vash's. It had been hers a few days ago. Milly sat in a chair next to Vash. She'd offered the chair to Meryl, but Meryl refused.

Vash's status? Nothing to report. Nothing was wrong with him, nothing had changed. It made Meryl nervous. With all these beeping boxes, she didn't feel like he was alright. If something was wrong with him, then they could "fix" it. But this...this was just a waiting game.

Milly was talking to him like she always did. She said it was good for him to hear peoples' voices. Meryl didn't see any quantifiable improvements in Vash, but it kept her from having to focus on the beeping machines.

Milly was just finishing a story about her first toma roundup at her family's farm when Meryl sensed somebody else's presence in the room. She turned to look at the door and saw Lil peaking out from the threshold.

"Hey sweetheart, are you looking for Milly?" The girl looked at her with her dark eyes and nodded rapidly, her hair bobbing up and down. "You can come in if you want to." The girl shook her head rapidly. "Okay." She tapped Milly on the shoulder and cocked her head towards the door. "Someone's looking for you."

Milly jumped up. "Hey Lil! What's the matter?"

Lil motioned rapidly with her hand for Milly to come towards her. Milly bent down and Lil whispered something in her ear.

"Okay, just a second." Milly turned to Meryl. "I need to help Lil with something. Will you be ok by yourself?"

_No. Don't leave me here. _"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Okay, I'll see you for lunch."

At that, Milly scooped Lil up and walked down the corridor. Lil really had been stuck to her recently like white on rice.

Meryl looked at her feet. Still swinging. She found herself moving them in time to the beeps from the machinery.

_God...what am I hiding from, anyway? _She hopped down from the bed and sat on her knees in the chair Milly had just vacated. _It's not like he can reject me when he's unconscious. _She looked at him. She wanted to lie in bed with him and cry her eyes out. She just looked at him instead. She'd gotten a hold of the "Doc" and asked him what he thought about Vash's condition...about his appearance...

"He's lived through worse," he reassured her.

She leaned over and brushed his hair out of his face...three fourths of it was now black. That worried her a lot. When her hand left, his hair fell back into his face. She got a sense of déjà vu as she brushed his hair out of his face again. She sighed..._yet again_. She felt so disgusted with herself. Ever since she'd woken up, she'd felt so needy, like she wasn't complete unless she was near him. This wasn't normal and she hated feeling this way. Still, she couldn't shake it. She'd tried staying away from him, but it didn't help. There was always a sense of loss when she wasn't around him. When she was near him, the isolation disappeared She wanted to talk to him...to see if he remembered anything, to fill in the gaps in her memory, to find out what really happened. She looked back to that floppy black hair.

"What have you done to yourself?" she wondered out loud.

She took his right hand in both of hers. She leaned her forehead against his hand, too. Listening to the chorus of medical equipment, she found herself weeping.

She didn't make it to lunch with Milly after all.

* * *

A/N: So...they're out of immediate danger, but they're not in the clear yet! MUAHAHAHA! What is wrong with Meryl? And will Vash ever wake up? And will Milly continue to eat pudding for breakfast? And how does Knives feel about having no arms and being surrounded by humans? You'll find out soon...

The reviewing...please...


	10. chapter 10

hey everybody. thanks so much for all the awesome reviews! this update was shorter than i was hoping, but it seemed like a natural place to end the chapter. i hope everyone enjoys it!

* * *

It was the same empty feeling again; the feeling that always accompanied the weightlessness. 

Three times he'd felt it, and three times he'd asked himself the same question:

_Why was I ever born?_

There was nothing to break up the absolute intensity of his despair, of his self-hatred. Sure, he knew he wasn't awake, but in this barren pool of unconsciousness, bathed in a cold kind of twilight, he had no idea how long he had been under.

All he could do was wait.

His mind played cruel tricks on him. He would look down at his arms and see no scars, and for a moment, he would find himself taking this illusion for fact, as if his body had always been this way. Then he'd remember that he was trapped in his mind, staring at a body that wasn't real, a body he didn't recognize. Other times, he'd swear he was in some nowhere town, surrounded by people he used to know, people who had already passed on, and it felt so real. And then there were times where he'd be haunted by the memories of himself when he was a child, but knowing now exactly what would happen to the people he loved.

In this place, all he could do was think about the past.

There were no distractions, no damsels in distress, no children to argue with, no angry insurance girls, no whiskey to dull the pain. He could see the vast wasteland of his life completely laid out before him. He spent what felt like years regretting each and every one of hismistakes, even wishing that Rem hadn't stopped the rest of the crew from killing them when they'd had the chance. He berated himself for never realizing what Knives' plan had been until it was too late and Rem was already dead. He regretted his hubris, foolishly thinking it was safe to be around humans, stupidly going to the largest city on Gunsmoke, never once stopping to think how Knives could use his body against him. He never once thought Knives would use HIS OWN BODY against the ones he loved.

Every once in a while, he felt a gentle tug on his mind, but it never lasted long enough to bring him out. But...he still felt it, and it felt comforting and it turned his thoughts to someone else...someone in particular.

He'd think about one girl, about the one who said she wouldn't run away, abut the one person who really made him feel...human.

But even thoughts of her broke his heart now. He'd let her down so many times... This whole crazy race to the Seeds ship; god, what had he been _THINKING_? Endangering the lives of the only real friends he had? And for what? For a set of ideals even he was having a hard time believing in?

And the look on her face the last time he'd seen her... She trusted him so much..._TOO_ much. He'd never seen anyone look at him that way before, and he'd been in a lot of dangerous situations with a lot of different people. No, it was true. He couldn't remember anybody ever looking at him that way in his entire life.

But...would that look be the last he got from her? He didn't even know if she was alive...she could be dead because of him. And even if she did survive, well, he didn't even want to imagine that look of trust morph into a look of fear and disgust. He couldn't handle it...not from her.

What if she thought he was a monster? A freak? What if she never looked at him the same way again?

For some reason, that thought hurt him most of all.

He had the heart of a human, the face of an angel, but his body...his grotesquely scarred skin, his apocalyptic tendancies, his inability to control his power... Who could possibly feel safe around him?

If Wolfwood was there, it wouldn't have had to come to this. If he were alive, he would have helped Vash figure out what to do. If he were there...

...then Legato would be dead by Wolfwood's hand and Knives probably would have shared the same fate.

Oh god, how could he think such selfish, monstrous things? Using a friend's murderous tendencies so that his fragile ideals could remain intact? This wasn't why he missed him. This wasn't the reason he wanted Wolfwood to still be alive.

Vash always tried to be so noble, so good, but even he couldn't keep up with his own standards these days. Something was always unfair for somebody and he could never make it right. He could never make it fair. And he was so, _so_ tired of failing, especially when his shortcomings resulted in the deaths of others.

If he ever saw her again, he would send her away. It was the only right thing for him to do. It didn't matter anymore that he wanted to stay with her. She wasn't safe with him. As long as Knives was alive...hell, as long as HE was alive, she wouldn't be safe.

He'd made up his mind. He was going to miss her a lot.

He felt that familiar pleasant tug on his mind and he waited for it to pass. There was no reason to get used to such a fleeting sensation. It was stronger than usual, though, and it was becoming very hard to ignore.

After a while, he felt himself getting lighter. He was being pulled in the direction of the sensation. He closed his eyes tightly and waited for whatever was going to happen next...

...but nothing did.

The feeling of weight returned to his body and he sighed deeply in disappointment. Nothing had changed. Well...there was something... He felt lopsided, like his right side was heavier than his left.

He opened his eyes and saw soft dim whiteness. He blinked a few times and realized he was looking at a ceiling.

Another hallucination. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see the illusion. This wasn't real. His mind was just playing tricks again.

The weight on his right side shifted. He looked down and saw a mop of black hair resting against his hand. Jeez. He was missing her so much, he'd started imagining she was there.

He unthinkingly flexed the fingers underneath her face as he resumed his vigil on the ceiling. He imagined what she would do if he really were awake. She's probably clock him upside the head and give him a lecture about how her time was valuable and much too precious to be wasted watching over his sorry comatose butt. Who was he kidding? If this were real, why would she even be there at all?

He felt movement and looked over, expecting the angry and prideful face he'd just imagined. The face his eyes fell upon, however, couldn't have been more different. Tired, worried, bloodshot eyes met his and her mouth tried to work, but nothing would come out. A few stray tears rolled down her now-blushing cheeks as she blinked, unsure of whether she should hug him, say something, or turn tail and run away as fast as she could.

Her eyes went wide as he made the decision for her. He sat up and reached around her, pulling her half onto the bed in a clumsy embrace. This _was_ real. He _was_ awake. After a few seconds, she relaxed into him and started to cry a bit. He held onto her loosely, but securely. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her. What had happened? Where was Knives? Was Milly okay? How long had he been unconscious? But he figured since she was alright and they were on the Seeds ship that those questions could wait.

When she stopped crying, he pulled her away from him and got a good look at her. He gave her a visual once over, automatically running his hands through her hair to check for any head injuries. He started mentally berating himself. He didn't even know how long he'd been unconscious, but surely it had been long enough for any lumps to heal. He would have continued verbally beating himself up, too, if he hadn't noticed that as his hand slid down the side of her face, she closed her eyes and he could have_ sworn_ he felt her lean into the touch ever so slightly. To this, his heart responded by picking up the pace. This threw him for a loop. He unthinkingly pulled her back into the lazy embrace and tried to focus on what he was supposed to say:

_It isn't safe for you here._

_Take Milly and go somewhere far, far away._

_Change your name, don't ever let anyone know you had anything to do with me._

_I couldn't stand it if you got hurt._

But all those thoughts were distilled into just four little words:

"Long time, no see..."


	11. chapter 11

"Long time, no see..."

She held her breath. He was awake. Finally. It had been days filled with apprehension and doubt, with guilt and regret. Now all that felt so far away. He was here again. She let go of the breath she was holding.

"...Yeah..."

This was the closeness she'd been craving, the puzzle piece she'd been missing. But as she exhaled, she tried not to relax into him, tried not to lean against him, tried not to relay just how ecstatic she was that he was here with her. That familiar anxiety she always felt when he was around was back with a vengeance, and the last thing she wanted to do was accidentally ruin the moment, if this was indeed "a moment" and not a state of temporary post-coma psychosis on his part. She'd always played her emotional cards close to her vest. She didn't want to show too much or ask for anything. Still, when he gently nudged her closer, she obliged, even if it was a rigid motion.

She didn't know what else to say, so she stayed quiet. The combination of feeling so nervous and being so close to him was making her go insane. This was what she wanted, but what did this mean to him? With her head leaning gently against his chest, she could hear his heart beat and smell the detergent they used on the hospital gowns. With his cheek leaning carefully on her forehead, she could feel the faint sensation of his breath on her skin. Her hand, which was lightly resting against his side, fit perfectly into a groove that was long ago carved out by some scared, closed-minded fool. She was so close…she could tell him now…

But even as her heart screamed for her to tell him, to embrace him sincerely and let him know that she thought the world of him, her mind screamed for her to shut up and to get away from him. He was dangerous, not because he was the devil's helper and had annihilated cities and killed millions, but because at this moment, he had the power to destroy her. It would be incredibly easy for him to do, too. He might not even notice…

She was scared of him…because she loved him? That didn't sound exactly right to her when she thought it out loud, but that was how she felt. But…in cases like this, all she could do was fall back on what she knew, and what she knew was how to mitigate risk. If he was never given the opportunity to obliterate her soul, then he wouldn't ever be able to do it. Simple!

Soon, the safe, unfeeling analytical part of her brain kicked in, running cost-benefit analyses of the situation they'd escaped, of the amount of power Vash's equipment would be using. She wondered if the doctor would want to file a claim with her company for the expenses he'd accrued by taking them in. Vash would probably get an upgrade on his arm and maybe even some new gear as well. And there would definitely be a charge for the energy invested in confining Knives…

Soon, she'd managed to block out almost everything but her hypothetical scenarios. Her mind was buzzing with safe equations and comforting insurance formulas. She was so lost in thought that she was completely startled when Vash gently but firmly pushed her away, causing her to involuntarily hop off the bed to keep her balance. She quickly looked up at his face, but he wasn't looking at her. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were dead-set on the door. She looked, but nobody was there.

She looked back at him questioningly, but she was shocked by the change in his demeanor. His face suddenly had that old ridiculously enthusiastic smile on it and his hand was sheepishly in his hair. At the same moment, she heard footsteps entering the room.

"Hey Sempai, I missed you at lunch, so I brought you some-" Milly almost dropped the food in her hands when she saw Vash sitting up in bed. Before Meryl could do anything, Milly had announced Vash's consciousness to everyone in the medical bay and had tackled him in a death grip of a hug. People started streaming into the tiny hospital room, and as doctors, nurses, and old friends from all over the ship packed in, Meryl found herself being bumped and jostled by the enclosing mob. When it finally seemed the population in the room had reached some kind of stasis, Meryl found herself standing by the door looking on as all the well-wishers descended upon Vash. All these people were here to see him. They had been waiting for him to wake up, too. And as she looked around, she had the sinking feeling that there just wasn't any room here for her. She turned to leave, but was stopped by an unbelievably cheerful voice coming from the unbelievably cheerful face of one Vash T. Stampede.

"Hey Mer-...umm...Insura-...ahh..." he hesitated. A little kid jumped on him. "Oof… Hey! Where are you going?"

She looked at her feet and spoke to herself as she left. "I don't know..." A moment later, she plastered a smile on her face and looked up with mock enthusiasm. "Oh, you know…reports to finish…"

She didn't wait for a reaction. She left the room, a little shocked to be pushed aside so readily, a little disgusted at the fake display of enthusiasm (from both her and from him), and a little angry that she wasn't paying attention like she should have been. She tried to block it out, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she could have missed her only chance to let him know how she felt, and it stung that she wasn't in there right now by his side.

She walked slowly down the hall trying to get a grip on her emotions. It wasn't fair to be jealous of everyone else's feeling towards Vash and their desire to spend time with him. She knew first hand how easy it was to care about him. Plus, he'd just woken up from a coma… Everybody had been worried about him.

Meryl was so lost in thought, she ran right into somebody, a short somebody. She looked up and began to apologize as Doc looked at her concerned. "Miss Stryfe, is there something the matter?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm fine." She bit her lip. "Vash…he's awake now."

Doc shook his head. "I know. I was just on my way to see my most troublesome patient." He thought for a second. "Miss Stryfe, did you happen to mention Knives' status to Vash?"

Meryl shook her head guiltily. "No…I…it didn't come up."

Doc laughed jovially, trying to lift her spirits. "Please don't look so sad! I just wanted to know whether or not he'd been briefed on the matter. In this case, I'm sure I'll be peppered with questions immediately." Doc looked past her and saw the crowd of people in the hall trying to get inside to take a look at Vash. He chuckled. "Looks like I'm going to have to play referee." He looked back at Meryl questioningly. She was looking quite sadly at the crowd of people as well. "Why aren't you in with Vash? I was under the impression that observing him was part of your occupation."

Meryl frowned. "Yes…I…it is my job…" She looked at the doctor and tried to smile. "Milly is watching him right now, and I don't think he's in any sort of condition to be causing anybody trouble." They stood in silence a moment as Meryl's fake smile worked itself into a more natural frown. "Doc? Have you gotten the results back?"

Doc looked the girl over, knowing she was still anxious about the possibility of developing tumors. "Don't worry, my dear. Everything looks good. I actually do need to run some more tests, but not for tumor growth. You might have developed a rare condition called --"

"DOC!" Meryl and Doc turned their heads quickly to see a young man in a lab coat calling out from Vash's room. "It's crazy in here! I NEED HELP!"

Doc smiled apologetically and told Meryl they'd have to finish this conversation at a later time. She smiled politely and watched as he walked towards Vash's room and promptly began kicking people out.

She began to walk towards her room again. She was relieved by what the doctor had told her about not having developed cancer, but his unfinished sentence had left her feeling anxious nonetheless. Also, the feeling of completeness she got from being so close to Vash was beginning to wear her down. With every step she took, she felt a little more alone.

Once Doc had managed to get Vash's well-wishers out of his room and behind a closed door, Vash instantly dropped the act. His eyes and mouth fell into a well-worn expression of self-doubt and worry.

Doc continued to smile as he checked the status of a few of the machines in the room. "It's good to see you again, Vash." He sighed. "Although, your hair…that's bothering me a bit…I've looked into some research on the matter and frankly, it concerns me…"

Vash touched his head tentatively. "My…hair?"

Doc walked to the lavatory, got out a small hand mirror, and handed it to Vash. Vash's eyes widened when he saw his reflection. He touched his hair lightly. Vash looked to Doc for answers, but saw that he had none to give. Vash put the mirror down and took a deep breath. He knew that the hairs had something to do with his use of energy. His first black hairs had sprouted after Augusta. His fight with Knives had produced a neat under-coat of black. This last bleed off of energy, however, had caused the most dramatic change. He didn't exactly know what to think.

Considering there was nothing he could do about his hair at the moment, he turned his mind to more pressing matters. "Doc, where's Knives?"

Doc looked at Vash and smiled as reassuringly as he could. "Knives is in the lower deck. He's in a holding cell."

Vash looked concerned. "Is…is he alive?"

Doc answered calmly. "…Yes."

Vash looked confused. "Is he…conscious?"

Doc answered calmly. "Yes."

Vash's confusion grew, especially when Doc began to chuckle. The last time he remembered seeing Knives awake…was in…a hole in the ground…and Meryl had been there, too! And Knives had forced him…to use his… Vash looked absolutely stricken as he looked at Doc. Meryl was alright…but if Knives was this close to humans and was able to be contained, he must have been injured…and it must have been because of him…

"Here." Doc tossed Vash a small duffle bag which hit Vash in the side of the head. "I had some of your extra clothes lying around. Your boots are in the closet over there. Go ahead and change and I'll take you to your brother."

A few minutes later, Vash and the doctor walked to the transport that would take them to the lower deck. They didn't say anything. Doc could tell that Vash had a lot on his mind. He watched him while they rode the transport. In his faded jeans and worn in hoodie, Vash looked almost exactly the same way he had looked the first time Doc met him. The only visible evidence of change was the drastic juxtaposition of blond and black hair. Had that really been seventy years ago? He was now just a little older than Vash had been at the time. He had changed while Vash, for the most part, had remained the same.

He did not envy Vash.

--

This was like, the hardest chapter to write ever. I don't even know why. I kept wanting to write what comes next, but I had to write a connect-y chapter to link everything together….blegh… Next chapter, we have the grand entrance of one Millions Knives, and a certain insurance girl finds herself with a conflict of interest…

Anyway, to those readers who are still reading, and to any possible new readers, HELLO! Jaya Mitai, you get your way on chapter 5. And for some reason, ff ate the word "end" and I never put it back in. (I'm such a slacker...) I promise to make the next chapter in shorter order! The reviews make it go faster...


	12. chapter 12

The two men exited the transport. Doc led the way through the bright corridor. They stopped at a door with a guard posted outside. The man nodded at Doc and let the two of them in. Vash followed Doc into an observation room of sorts. He was looking through a piece of glass at a huddled mass in a corner. Vash recognized the nearly-white hair instantly. For some reason, in his huddled position, lodged between a bed frame and the wall, Knives looked smaller than he should have. He seemed to be sleeping.

For a split second, Vash let the vision of his brother's mangled body float through his mind. Vash had nearly destroyed him at July. He'd expected Knives to be stitched together and reassembled in a grotesque fashion, but for all the horrible scenarios he'd been entertaining on the way down, Knives looked pretty good.

Doc stood behind Vash as they both watched. The guard closed the door behind them and a moment later, Knives stirred.

He looked drained, hopeless. He looked scared.

Then he looked straight at Vash through the one-way mirror, and his eyes changed. He looked enraged. He tried to stand, but he seemed horribly off balance. Finally he made it to his feet and Vash gasped. His mind couldn't interpret what his eyes were seeing. Eventually he made the only deduction he could from the information he could gather: Knives had no arms. They were cleanly sheered at the shoulders and fitted with metal sockets for artificial arms. Two bars of metal extended from each socket to Knives' shoulder blades and down his collarbone, apparently in an attempt to provide some kind of leverage and reinforcement for the unattached prosthetic arms due to the loss of most of the deltoid and trapezius muscles.

So this was how they were able to contain him.

Doc watched Vash shake his head in disbelief and work his mouth wordlessly as Knives walked towards the glass. "I…I…" He walked backwards to sit in one of the many chairs in the room and collapsed. "I don't remember…I didn't mean to…" He sounded like he was hyperventilating. He dropped his head into his hands and tried to remember exactly what happened, but his mind was completely blank. He couldn't help but think about what Rem would say if she saw this… They were supposed to be brothers. He was supposed to take care of Knives, not blow his arms off! And the most dangerous part of Knives was still his mind. Even if he could be contained, how would Vash ever convince him the humans were worthy of life now?

Doc placed a comforting hand on his back and Vash turned to look at the short man. Vash's eyes were beginning to water. He gave Doc a searching look, pleading for absolution. "I didn't…I didn't…"

"No Vash. You didn't," Doc said calmly, resolutely.

Vash looked at him with a confused expression, then his face screwed into an expression of anger. "How can you say that?" he demanded quietly. "Who else could have done this?"

Doc sat down and looked at Knives. "When the field team got to the…site, they found Knives with his arms nearly severed from his torso. The instrument used to remove his arms is thought to have been a small axe found a few feet away. You were clearly unconscious when this took place."

Vash looked at Knives, trying to figure out what happened, wondering if he lost time after he'd fired his arm again and actually chopped his brother's arms off with an axe. "How can you possibly know that?"

Doc took a deep breath. "It wasn't obvious at first. Honestly, it still doesn't entirely make sense. Miss Stryfe…" Vash's head snapped up and he looked gravely at Doc. "…Miss Stryfe was found lying on top of you in a puddle of her own blood. That blood was on you as well. Because of the sheer volume of lost blood, it would have been very hard not to get any of it underneath you if you had been mobile. There was a trail of blood leading from her to Knives… We had it analyzed. It's the same type as hers."

Vash's intense gaze settled back on Knives. "She was injured?" He thought back, almost in a daze. Hadn't she…broken her leg in the fall?

"Yes," Doc replied. "It seems she lost a massive amount of blood. It's a wonder that she's even alive, let alone completely healed." Vash didn't look at him, but he could see Vash's eyes grow a little bit wider. "Upon the initial examination, hundreds of scars from tiny lacerations were visible on her legs. While she convalesced in the sick bay, these scars further faded. Now they're nearly invisible." Doc was silent a moment. "It is thought that she received these injuries while attacking Knives, but no weapons were found in the sinkhole that could have caused injuries like that. It's a very strange scenario, don't you think?"

Vash thought for a moment. "Did…she confirm any of this?"

"She was neither able to confirm nor deny. She claims to have absolutely no memory of the event. The psychologist assigned to her finds no reason to doubt her testimony." Vash exhaled loudly and slowly. He leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. "It should be noted, however," Doc started again, "that even though she did cause major trauma to your brother's body which directly led to the amputation of his arms, it is believed that if she had wanted to at the time, she was fully capable of killing him." Doc looked back at Knives, whose eyes seemed to stare blindly, yet directly at his brother's face. Doc reiterated: "It takes a lot of determination from a sweet girl like her to hack through another person's body. She was probably scared and desperate. You were unconscious and she did what she thought she had to do." Doc paused a moment. "She could have killed him."

She could have killed him, but she didn't. He hadn't been able to take care of Knives or Meryl. He really had been worthless for the last 4 weeks…at least. He rubbed his eyes wearily, not entirely certain what to make of the situation. "Have you…ah….created prosthetics for him?"

"Why yes," Doc's demeanor changed significantly, as it always did when he talked about his handiwork. He beamed with pride. "I've crafted the finest prosthetics for your brother…ah…granted, they're unarmed."

Vash nodded. That only made sense.

"We haven't attached them yet, obviously, because you were unconscious. We did not know what kind of risk he posed and thought it would be best to wait until you were involved."

Vash sighed, overwhelmed. How could things have gotten so out of hand? Things weren't supposed to happen this way. "Can I talk to him?"

Doc nodded. "Yes. Of course. We're also arranging a room especially for the two of you. There is an automatic kill switch installed on the arms. Knives will only be able to use them while he is in the room. Otherwise, they will go slack and will not receive any neurotransmissions from his brain. Any tampering will automatically engage the switch and the limbs will be rendered immobile as well." He looked at Vash who was still deep in thought. "I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of installing that…I feel in this case it's better to be safe than sorry. This will also afford you some freedom. The girls told me you've spent the vast majority of your time in the recent weeks watching over Knives personally."

Vash stood up slowly. He didn't want to talk anymore. "How do I get in there?"

Doc led Vash to a hidden door in the wall. This led to an antechamber. Vash was locked in and then a door to the observation room opened. Doc watched silently as Vash entered the room.

Knives was livid. Vash didn't know what to say. This was the first time he had been around his brother in years where he did not fear the complete loss of control over his own body. Honestly, though, he'd always imagined this meeting quite differently. He didn't want to destroy what Knives was. He wanted Knives to see why humans deserved a chance.

He had a hard time meeting his brother's gaze. He could barely look at his body without sobbing. Fury and impotence fought for a place on Knives face as he imagined killing his brother for what had been done to him. And Vash had left him here for almost two weeks…at the mercy of those disgusting vermin… At the first chance he got, he was going to make Vash sorry…

Vash opened his mouth to speak, not even sure if the words that would come out of his mouth would make sense when Knives cut him off. "You left me here."

Vash looked confused. "Knives, I didn't --"

"SHUT UP! DON'T LIE TO ME!" Knives sneered as he bent over with a strange and unnatural posture. "I felt you in there. You were watching and you left me here. YOU LEFT ME HERE! Did you think I would capitulate? Did you think that confinement would break my spirit and you'd be able to change me?"

Vash shook his head. "…I've been unconscious until just about an hour ago…"

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, out of control. "Look what they did to me. LOOK AT ME!"

Vash winced at Knives' accusations. "Knives, please…just…"

"Just what, Vash? Wait patiently while they dissect my arms and get a taste for experimentation? Wait for them to kill me? To kill you? You stupid fool! You'll never change!" He turned away and sank back into a corner. "And with you eating out of their hands like the FUCKING IDIOT YOU ARE, we're both going to get killed. I tried to keep it from happening, but you just wouldn't listen!" He looked up at the ceiling, paranoia in his eyes. "You let them lock the both of us in here…do you really think they're going to let us out again alive? You're such a fool." Knives looked back at his lost brother. "We were born in one of these ships, now we're going to die in one."

"Please!" Vash begged. "Please, just stop. Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to take care of you. No one is going to hurt you, or me! We're going to be fine, I promise."

Knives scoffed, hopelessness finally taking the place of the anger that so recently inhabited his body. "Take care of me? Just look at you. You can't even take care of yourself."

And with that, Vash leaned into a corner, slid down against the wall, and wept.

* * *

Meryl picked at her food. She'd lost her appetite days ago. Still, Milly would badger her if she didn't at least go to through the motions of getting a bite to eat. Doc had been keeping her busy with damage reports from the time the ship fell out of the sky. Most of the damage had been caused by Gung ho Guns, so that meant it was covered under Bernardelli's plan, but she had to wonder just how a secret floating ship managed to purchase an insurance policy... probably through that Max fellow. It didn't really matter, though. It made her feel useful, and right now, that's what she needed most.

She continued to pick at the cafeteria tray as thoughts of a certain gunman drifted into her mind. She hadn't seen him since he initially woke up. That was something like three days ago. It seemed like every unoccupied space in her brain had been newly inhabited with thoughts of him. Did he hate her? Would he never talk to her again? Should she apologize for what she'd done? Had she gotten too close? He'd most likely seen what she had done to Knives and she had no doubt it had changed everything for him. She wondered what he'd say to her if he were there…

"You should eat, or you're going to disappear." She sat up straight and looked towards the voice. There he was…right in front of her, with sad eyes that made his goofy smile seem completely joyless. "And you're already skinny enough as it is…" And he was making fun of her.

She clearly didn't know what to think.

"Vash! Sit down. Where have you been?" She sounded like her mother.

He sat down and looked at her. It felt like an eternity since he'd last seen her and so much had changed. "I've been on the same ship…you could have come --" What was he saying? He certainly hadn't searched her out to tell her that…

Meryl looked down, feeling guilt upon guilt. "I didn't know if…"

His mouth opened again by itself. "I half expected you to --"

"Doc's been keeping me too busy to think."

"Sounds nice…"

Meryl bit her lip. There was an almost tangible barrier between them. She looked at him. He seemed tired. It was so strange how black hair changed his whole appearance. He looked so much more somber and his blue eyes only got bluer.

"Where have you been?" It was out of her mouth before she could decide not to say it. "I mean…"

After a moment, he leaned in and spoke. "I got a living quarters assignment," he hesitated as she looked down at the table. So…he'd been close the whole time. "But I don't think it's a good idea if you go there. I mean…"

He thought he saw her chin tremble for a split second before she started talking. "Oh please, Vash! You don't need to explain it to me!" she laughed nonchalantly as she waved her hand up and down dismissively. She began to stand up. "I mean, who wants a pesky insurance girl always hovering around them?" She laughed ridiculously loudly. "And you don't have to tell me twice that I'm not wanted!" She tried to cover her bitterness with another nervous laugh.

"No, that's not what I…" His voice made her want to cry. To her sad ears, he almost sounded like he was telling the truth.

She pushed the tray towards him. She was not going to break down in front of everyone here. "Really, Vash. There's no need to explain. It all makes perfect sense." She pushed the chair in. "You need some privacy! I mean, if I were you, I'd want me out of my hair, too!" She tried to ignore the sad look he was giving her. She pushed the tray of uneaten food towards him. He reached out for her hand, but she dodged. The last thing she needed was his pity. "Wow! Look at the time… I've got to get going anyway. Please eat this. I've barely touched it, and it would be a shame for it to go to waste."

With that, she turned around and walked out of the cafeteria without looking back.

Vash sat still for a moment, looking at the seat she had occupied only seconds before. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings, but it never ceased to amaze him. No matter what he did, it seemed like he hurt the people closest to him. He'd tried to plan out everything he was going to say before hand, but seeing her sitting sad and alone in such a populated area had caused a major derailment in his train of thought. She looked so small and lonely, and even though he had totally failed to protect her from his brother, he felt the urge to wrap his arms around her and forget about everyone else in the world.

But now she was gone, and all he had left was a tray of cooling food. He started to eat it, not because he was hungry, but because sometimes eating for no reason helped make him feel a little less empty. Plus, he imagined she would be mad at him for disregarding a direct order like that. He blinked back tears as he finished the meal alone. He cleared the table and returned the tray to the bin and left the cafeteria.

He made his way outside to one of the external decks. He found an out-of-the-way spot where the wind didn't blow too hard and hunkered down against the wall. He pulled his flask out of his back pocket and took a swig. He exhaled loudly as he screwed the cap back on. He thought again and uncapped the flask to take another swig before capping it again and stowing it away. He fished a small package out of his hoodie pocket and tapped out one cigarette and a lighter. He lit the cigarette like a candle and watched it burn for a few moments. The flame died down, but the tobacco continued to smolder. He closed his eyes. If he didn't think, he could almost believe that Wolfwood was sitting there with him. He would be making fun of Vash for looking a gift horse in the mouth. "_The short one did you a favor you idiot! She took care of what you couldn't. Why don't you just tell her how you feel and knock off all this martyr bullshit_. _What…are you afraid of being happy? Don't be a jerk, Spikey." _

His eyes snapped open. "But it's my responsibility to take care of Knives!" he shouted out loud at the voice in his head. At this realization, he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed for the outburst even if no one was around to hear it. It was times like these that he really felt like he was losing it. He was pretty sure most people didn't talk to dead ones, but he'd never asked anybody, too afraid of having his insanity confirmed. He gently stubbed out the half cigarette, careful not to bend it, and tucked the tobacco incense and the lighter back in its pack.

He felt totally alone. Wolfwood was dead. His brother hated him. Meryl probably hated him. Milly didn't hate him yet, but she would if she found Meryl crying. He sadly realized, though, that it would be worth it for even Milly to hate him if it meant the two of them would remain safe. In a way, he was almost relieved. After today, Meryl would probably never speak to him again, let alone try to find his room. He retrieved the flask and drank until it was completely empty. He tried not to think about how useless he'd become as he covered his face with his hands and began to cry.

Meryl had been wandering for what seemed like hours. She'd covered the entire ship, she was sure. She was on her way back to her room for a good soak in her tub and a long, unadulterated crying binge when she stopped in front of a room. She turned to look at it. She got the strangest feeling. _Could this be…Vash's room?_ Part of her was completely weirded out by the vibes she was picking up (and the fact that she was picking up any "vibes" at all had her a bit worried as well), but another part of her told her to press the intercom button.

"Excuse me…I'm…" What was she doing? "I'm sorry to bother you…I just…" She took a deep breath. "…Vash?"

She waited for a response, but none came. It had been really stupid to assume she would just be able to _tell_ which room was his. What did she think she had? Super pow--

The door slid open silently.

She looked down the hall in both directions before hesitantly walking into to the room.

* * *

Vash had devolved into a sobbing wreck. His was crying so hard he was on the verge of puking.

"Excuse me…I'm…"

At the sound of the voice, he stopped crying immediately and tried to wipe his eyes as he stood up, but even he knew he wouldn't be able to convince anyone. The fast change in altitude combined with the whiskey to produce a slightly dizzying affect. He looked around. He didn't see anyone, and he hadn't felt anyone around him either.

"I'm sorry to bother you…I just…"

He looked around again. He didn't see anyone. Was he finally going crazy this time?

"Vash?"

That...couldn't...be…"Meryl?"

Like a blast of lightning, he realized the voice was coming from his ear ring, which meant she had found his room…

…which meant…she was alone. With Knives.

* * *

A/N: MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! LOOK WHAT HORRIBLE POSITION I'VE PUT MERYL AND VASH IN:rubs hands together and looks shiftily from side to side: 

Thanks everybody for the awesome reviews! I'm taking Jaya Mitai's advice and I'm trying to slow down and pet the plotbunnies. This chapter is the longest I've written in ages... And look! I updated! Like…in less than a week this time! I feel so productive. :) Review por favor :)


	13. chapter 13

She walked into the dark room slowly.

"Vash?" she called out tentatively. She took no note as the door slid silently closed behind her. She looked around. It was definitely his room. She saw his duffle bag in one of the corners and the counter was littered with donut boxes and a few empty liquor bottles. She walked over to the counter and picked up one of the empty bottles. "What are you doing to yourself?" She stood there a moment before gathering up the trash and throwing it into the waste bin. Then she realized what she was doing and stopped herself from doing any more cleaning. Vash was a big boy and he could take care of himself. Plus, if she straightened up the room, he might notice she'd been there. Then again, he might not. Then again, he might just start whining.

"_But insurance girl, I was _SAVING_ that empty donut box!"_

She sighed and turned to leave. She hit the door control panel, but it didn't open. She hit it a few more times before sighing exasperatedly. It still didn't respond. "Probably locked from the outside," she muttered to herself. This was just her luck. Vash had basically told her not to come around. Now he would come back to his room and she would be the first thing he saw.

She walked into the living area and sat on the couch in the darkness. She suddenly found herself mad at him. What was he thinking telling her not to come around! Didn't he know her at all? She was an INSURANCE INVESTIGATOR. Nosiness wasn't just an annoying personality defect for her. It was a way of life.

She leaned back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. What was she going to say to him when he showed up? How was she going to come out of this situation looking anything other than stalker-ish?

"…"

What did she care? She had a reason! This was her job! This was her _job_. This was her **job**.

Maybe some day, she would manage to convince herself.

She gasped as she felt a sudden sensation around her leg. She looked down to see a black cat trying to get attention. She laughed a little at herself for being so frightened.

"Hey there, little guy," she said as she bent down to pet it. "What are you doing here?"

"What a good question," said a man's voice from another room.

Meryl tried to snap her head up, but she found that she couldn't. Her body felt stuck. She started to panic. That could only be… That could only be… By sheer determination alone, she forced her head up to look towards the voice.

Her eyes confirmed her worst fears.

Vash's legs pounded against the floor. He was running as fast as he could. He could hear Knives voice clearly in his head.

"So…you've come looking for Vash, have you? I thought he told you filth to stay away…"

Vash's lungs felt like they were going to explode. He had to get there fast.

"Oh well. His loss. Look what I found in my room today. Do you know what this is, spider? It's…a listening device."

He cursed his legs for not going faster.

"Do you know why he left it here? Hmm? It's because…he doesn't trust me anymore."

His heart was pounding in his chest.

"Do you know why he doesn't trust me, spider? It's because of you miserable creatures. You've turned him against me."

He almost ripped his ear ring out.

"I seem to recognize you. You're the one, aren't you? The one who did this to me. Isn't it ironic that instead of using the arms I was born with to kill you, I'll be using arms made by the hands of your kind to do the same? Even though you went through all the trouble of trying to stop me, you're still going to die by my hand, even if it is a fake one."

The floor seemed to fall out from under him, but he kept running anyway.

"Do you have any last words for Vash before I kill you? He's been listening, you know… HAVEN'T YOU, VASH! I want you to hear the last breaths of the pathetic weakling you tried to protect…the filth you place above even your own brother."

He heard a gasp as Meryl got control of her vocal cords again. "I…I…" Her speech was labored. "I'd do it again," she growled. "In a heartbeat." A pause. "I'm…sorry…Vash."

He would have screamed if his voice worked.

"I want you to listen hard, brother."

He heard a quiet pounding noise in his head. It sounded totally erratic. It began to slow to a steadier rhythm. It sounded so familiar…

Like a heartbeat.

It was way too slow.

Knives looked Meryl in the eyes. He pressed the pen against her chest as his other hand gripped her neck. Her panicked eyes were rolling into the back of her head. A few more seconds and she'd be unconscious, another three minutes and she'd be brain-dead. He was fascinated with the feel of her slowing pulse under his new hand. He could feel everything, every little imperfection in her skin, every muscle that struggled against him, every blood cell that tried to push through his grip. He focused on the new sensations. He lost concentration enough that she was able to move her arms. She reached up in an attempt to push him away, but she only managed to lightly brush her hands against his neck as she lost consciousness completely.

At the moment she touched him, Knives saw something he wasn't expecting: an image of a young man in a space suit with crazed eyes and bloody knuckles. It took him a moment to realize that he was seeing himself. It was just after the Great Fall…but how could this human…

Though his arms were incredibly powerful instruments, they were only as good as the brain they were connected to, and at this moment, Knives' brain was a little side-tracked. His grip loosened just enough for her to get some much needed oxygen. Her body automatically inhaled what it could.

He tried to block the memory that followed, but he couldn't. He saw Vash lying in front of him, a bruise on his cheek, his eyes poring out sadness and disbelief. Vash hadn't ever accepted that what he'd done was necessary for the two of them to be safe. Even Rem…even she chose the humans over them… They couldn't even trust her.

He heard the door slide open and he saw his brother's face, but it was hard to separate reality from the memory. Vash had the exact same look in his eyes. Knives blinked, trying to gather his wits, attempting to crush the human's trachea with his new hand, but in no time, Vash had crossed the room and punched Knives in the face. Blood from his newly broken nose sprayed across the wall as he fell. He felt a sharp, dizzying pain in his side as his brother kicked him in the kidney.

Vash lifted him by his neck so that his feet barely touched the ground. The look in Vash's eyes was suddenly completely different: they were hardened with righteous fury. Vash squeezed Knives' throat slowly, giving his twin a taste of his own medicine. He lost track of himself, squeezing more tightly little by little. Knives was trying to speak, but there wasn't enough air in his lungs to push any words out. Vash suddenly realized what he was doing, but he just couldn't stop himself. He wanted his brother to suffer. He wanted Knives to feel the anguish he'd felt. He wanted Knives to know what it felt like to never be able to touch another living thing without having fear course through his veins. He wanted Knives to know what it was like to have a brother who wouldn't bat an eye over killing even him. He was so tired of feeling weak and helpless and indecisive and cowardly. He wanted Knives to fear him. He wanted Knives to feel pain, the same pain he'd caused Meryl, the same pain he'd caused him, the same pain he'd caused --

A small cough distracted him and he let go of his brother's neck. Knives crumpled to the ground gasping for breath. He looked at his hands, slightly horrified. Another cough brought him back to reality and he realized he needed to get Meryl out of there. He picked her up carefully and held her close to him. She was unconscious and shaking. He walked outside of the room and sank against the wall until he was on the floor with her in his lap. He knew he should have taken her to Doc or even to Milly, but all he could do at the moment was listen to her breathe.

* * *

It felt like some kind of…earth quake… It seemed like she was lying on uneven ground. The shaking didn't stop. Rocks were jabbing into her side. She tried to roll into a more comfortable position, but she realized she was pinned by something. The shaking stopped. She slowly opened her eyes.

She saw a shoulder. She was leaning against somebody's chest.

She looked up and saw Vash's face. He was arguing with someone. He'd been crying. _Of course_. She looked around and saw a group of people surrounding her, all of them looking very worried. She tried to say something, but the sudden realization of the raw, throbbing pain along her throat caused a sudden memory of Knives' attempt on her life.

She started freaking out. Was he here? Was he watching? Did Vash know where he was? She started to scream and to push away from Vash. He looked at her with bewilderment in his eyes. His hold on her loosened and another pair of hands grabbed at her, lifting her up. She tried to swing at whoever it was, but she was immediately enveloped in a strong, warm, familiar embrace. She looked up.

Was that face…Milly's? It was hard to tell. Meryl had never seen her look so angry before. A moment later, all doubt was cast out of her mind as Milly looked down at her and carefully touched her sore neck. Milly's chin trembled with pure sympathy for a moment before she stared daggers at Vash one more time and turned to leave. Meryl realized she was being carried and a small part of her brain told her she should be feeling some kind of embarrassment over this, but the overwhelming majority of her brain cells were celebrating the fact that she was finally somewhere where she could feel safe. She looked over Milly's shoulder as Milly's long strides carried her farther and farther away. Doc knelt down as Vash hugged himself and began to rock back and forth.

Meryl closed her eyes. She just couldn't watch anymore.

* * *

A/N: what is this! ANOTHER UPDATE! i am officially on a roll! 

thanks for the reviews! give me more:)


	14. chapter 14

Doc sent all the onlookers away as he tried to comfort Vash. The poor man was wrapped around himself and looked more like a lost child than the most infamous gunman this planet had ever known. Doc fished his own flask out of his pocket and handed it to Vash. Now was not the time for lectures on liver health.

"Come on, Vash." Doc patted Vash on the shoulder as Vash drank from the flask. "You've got to get a hold of yourself."

Vash handed the flask back shakily. What had he been doing? Why had he acted like that? He just couldn't help but ruin every good thing that came into his life. "Milly was right," he said tiredly. "I didn't do enough to insure everyone's safety. I didn't do enough…to protect her."

The story of his life…

Doc looked Vash over with concerned eyes. "I think you need some rest. You seem mentally and physically exhausted. Have you been sleeping recently? If you're having nightmares, I can prescribe a sedative," he suggested. "I can have guards posted outside of this room…"

Vash shook his head violently and stood up. "Out of the question, Doc." He leaned against the wall as a wave of dizziness hit him. It was getting harder and harder to deny his own exhaustion.

Doc tried one more time to try to get Vash to rest. "Vash, you know you don't have to face this alone."

Vash looked down and chuckled humorlessly at the floor before walking into his room. The door slid silently shut behind him. He walked into the kitchen and completely ignored Knives, who was lying on the couch Meryl had been sitting on. For three days, he'd tried to get Knives to talk to him, and for three days, his efforts begot him nothing but silence. And now this: he'd almost lost Meryl. Forever. He needed another drink. Vash got a glass out of a cabinet and filled it half way with liquor.

Knives was still holding onto the listening device. "That stupid human," Knives said to Vash's back. "You've got a twin," Knives scoffed. "You'll never be alone."

Vash almost laughed. His brother's words couldn't be farther from the truth. He was alone even as he stood in the same room with Knives. He'd already alienated the girls, and by the way Milly had spoken to him earlier, he wouldn't be surprised if he never saw either one of them again. Maybe he _had_ lost Meryl forever… And he was well on his way to shutting out Doc, the last remaining human he thought would dare count him as a friend.

Knives dabbed at his nose with the back of an index finger. "That was quite a display earlier. You almost had me scared." His nose had stopped bleeding. He sat up slowly. "And what exactly did you do to your hair? Are you trying to be more like _them_?" He watched Vash as he took another sip of alcohol. He didn't appreciate being ignored. "And I was wondering if you could tell me why you are so fascinated by suicidal women…"

The glass in Vash's hand shattered in his grip. Knives smiled. "Struck a nerve?"

Vash looked down at the glass and alcohol disaster in front of him. He muttered something, but Knives couldn't quite make it out.

"Excuse me?"

"I said," Vash spoke just a bit louder this time. Knives still had to strain to hear him. "It's over."

Knives didn't exactly know where his brother was going with this. "I don't understand."

"It's over Knives. It's just…over." He paused. "I can't fight for peace. You of all people must recognize the logical impossibility of that statement." Vash turned around and looked at Knives. "I can't handle it. I can't handle any more death. No more death…" He trailed off.

Knives sneered. He always thought it was cute when Vash tried to be logical. "You mean you can't watch any more of your weak, precious little humans die? The ones you've put above even me? Even your own brother?"

"Knives. I won." There was no pride in his voice, no celebration. There was only resignation. "You can mock my anger and my pain, but it won't change that fact. I won and I won't fight you any more. If you stop trying to hurt people, I promise I'll protect you, but if you don't…" He trailed off again. He was so tired. He took a deep breath. "If you don't, then a human might be able to get a hold of you…and I might not be able to stop them…"

"What kind of threat is that, Vash?" Knives knew when his brother was bluffing, and he was bluffing. Definitely bluffing. Definitely.

Vash rubbed his temples with both hands, trying to concentrate. His voice came out flat, with all the passion reserved for reciting the phone book. "Both of the seeds in your body have been removed. Without them, the plants won't respond to you like they used to. Without their full resonance, you won't be able to regenerate your body. Without a regenerated body, you can be killed by conventional methods. I'm sure that you've still got some sort of defense mechanism, but it's weakened without those seeds, isn't it." Vash paused as he drew in a tired breath. "You probably even have trouble controlling your telepathic powers now. In this state, you need to learn how to cooperate with the humans, or you're going to get yourself killed." Vash dropped his hands and looked at his brother. "This is no threat. Do you understand now?"

Knives' eyes widened in shock. This kind of logic wasn't cute. He'd simply assumed he would be able to eventually escape and grow back his mutilated arms. After all, he'd regenerated much larger parts of his body in the past. "How can you possibly know this?" he shouted.

"You're not the only one who can hack into the computer's records."

Knives' eyes narrowed with anger. "You're lying. You're lying!"

Vash sighed, wishing the sudden pounding in his head would stop. He couldn't decide whether another drink or sleep would help combat the throbbing better. "Lots of research was done on the way plants interact. To engage in the highest levels of energy production, they resonate with each other. Their seeds resonate. You. don't. have. any. seeds. They probably wouldn't respond any differently to you than to a plant engineer now."

This was impossible. How could Vash be saying this? That now…he was practically…one of them? Knives started to scream. "I'm…going to kill everyone! I'm going to do it! I'll start with that little one from earlier…the one who knows too much. You can't even imagine what I saw in her head! ...And then I'll kill everyone else! You'll be sorry!" Knives continued to rant.

Vash walked over to the counter, ignoring the rant, and realized he wouldn't be able to sleep without another drink anyway. He grabbed an open bottle. "Okay, well, if you're going to kill everybody, just do it quietly…"

"I'M NOT KIDDING!"

Vash finally turned completely to Knives. "JUST EXACTLY WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?" He shouted at the top of his lungs. "Are you going to spin around and slap people to death? These people have been living on a planet that could aptly be described as the first circle of hell on a GOOD DAY! Do you really think they're so defenseless?" He spoke through clenched jaws. "You've forced them to struggle to survive and they've come through…in a way, you should be proud… I mean, IT IS ALL THANKS TO YOU!" He took several breaths to calm himself down. Yelling wasn't going to change anything and it wasn't going to make him feel better. He'd proven that to himself earlier. "It's over, Knives. The sooner you realize it, the sooner we can both get on with our lives." He walked towards one of the bedrooms and stood in the doorway. "It's been over a century," he said sadly. "Hasn't this gone on long enough?" He stood very still for a moment, like he was waiting for an answer, but none ever came. He sighed heavily as he walked into the room without looking back. The door slid shut behind him.

Knives was burning with fury. Vash was wrong, and he would prove it.

* * *

"Stop it now, Meryl! You are not fine," Milly demanded. "As the junior investigator, it is my responsibility to the Agency to relieve you of your duties if your role as objective observer becomes compromised as stated in the handbook, chapter 17, article 5, page 1846." 

Meryl was shocked. She didn't know Milly had even read the Bernardelli Employee Handbook, let alone that she was prepared to recite it from memory. She could put up with Milly's mothering, and would sit obediently in bed and drink the hot tea her friend had made for her, but really now! She was perfectly capable of serving until her term of office was over! And she didn't like that tone… "Excuse me, Milly? What exactly has been compromised? This case has become my life! I wouldn't do anything to sabotage --"

Milly shook her head at her sempai. "Just listen to yourself! If you were being objective, you wouldn't be saying things like that!" Milly sat down next to Meryl. She spoke delicately. "Meryl…I know…you care about Mr. Vash." Meryl looked at her and almost attempted to deny it, but Milly's innocent eyes drug the truth right out of her. She didn't even have to say anything. Milly already knew. "And it's good to care about people. It's honest and natural and brave and good…but you can't get in over your head. You can't let yourself get killed because of it." Milly was quiet a moment. "I mean, think about it Meryl. What would it do to Vash if you died?" Another pause. "Don't you remember…that man…he shot?"

A sudden flash of the man in the white jacket flashed before her eyes. He had a bullet hole in his skull. She was holding a gun, her sleeve ripped…except it wasn't her arm and it wasn't her gun… "Please, Milly," she begged. "Of course I remember. What's the point of bringing it up?"

"I just don't want you to forget what he did for us…and what it did to him to make that decision."

Meryl looked down as her vision filled with water. "Milly," she started quietly, resolutely, "I would never forget that. Never in a million years would I forget…"

At the first sign of tears, Milly pulled Meryl into a hug. There had been a time when Meryl would have fought off this kind of attention with tooth and nail. When had she gotten so weak? When had Milly ceased to be a coworker and become more like a sister?

"Everything is going to be alright," Milly said as she held onto her friend.

It was so strange. She'd just evaded death by the narrowest of margins, and at the hands of Knives, no less… But all she could think was how…

"Vash is going to hate me."

"What are you talking about!" Milly exclaimed. When Doc had paged her intercom and told her he needed her help, she didn't know what to expect. Meryl was always the one Doc contacted for insurance matters…in fact, she thought Meryl had been with him the entire time. When she'd gotten to Vash's room, Vash was holding onto an unconscious Meryl and screaming at the top of his lungs at Doc. He didn't want anybody to touch her. He wanted everyone to go away. He wasn't making any sense. He even yelled at her, too, and he'd told her to go away in that voice that meant business. Doc knew that Knives was in that room and had more or less pieced together what had happened. Vash's yelling didn't help things. Meryl stayed unconscious through most of it. Vash huddled around Meryl as Doc pulled her to the side and told Milly what he thought had happened. Righteous fury erupted out of Milly. She stared Vash in the eye and told him exactly what she thought of him. How dare he allow harm to come to Meryl? Didn't he care about her? Didn't he want her to be safe? His eyes were hard as he stared at her. Milly noticed Meryl had regained consciousness. Meryl started to scream and the look in Vash's eyes completely deteriorated. What was once hardness was replaced with helplessness.

Milly gave her friend a little squeeze. "I know he doesn't hate you." If the whole screaming episode hadn't proven it, that look in his eyes as she pushed away from him was evidence enough. Helplessness, however, wasn't enough where Meryl's life was concerned. "In fact, I still need to talk to him."

Meryl's head popped up. "No, Milly, please," she pleaded

The look in Milly's eyes changed from compassionate to hurt. "He almost let you get killed!" She let go of her friend and went to the stove to pour another cup of tea. "Plus, I need to collect interviews for the report."

Meryl's brain went blank. "Re-re-report?"

Milly smiled. "Well, yeah, Meryl. Who's going to write them if you don't?"

What was she going to say to Vash? What was she going to tell him? What was she going to do if she didn't have her job to keep her pseudo-busy? Meryl tried to appeal to her emotions. "He tried to tell me to stay away. I…I just didn't listen to him!"

Milly cocked an eyebrow. "Well, he certainly didn't try hard enough, then." She turned to Meryl and flashed her a dazzling smile. "Don't worry, Sempai, I'll even leave my stungun here!"

A surge of embarrassment flooded through her body. She'd basically been demoted by her junior partner, she'd lost all usefulness she still pretended to possess, and Milly was going to have words with Vash over the way she'd been treated. Her life...was over.

After a few minutes, Milly excused herself, saying she had a few errands to run. Milly asked her if she was okay. She said she was, but Milly had been right. She wasn't fine...not at all.

She kept up a strong face, but as soon as her door slid closed, she started to fall apart. She used to have control over her life! She used to know where she was going! But little by little, she felt like she was losing that control.

She was starting to wonder why she even stayed.

* * *

A/N: well, another chapter updated. you guys will have to wait for the milly beat down until next chapter. thanks everybody for reviewing! 

:waits:

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	15. chapter 15

A pleasant sound interrupted his dreamless sleep. He would have gladly ignored it and rolled back over if it weren't for the sound's incessant, repetitive nature. Once he was awake enough to place the sound, he realized it was the intercom chiming for his attention.

It finally dawned on him that someone was outside of his room. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at the ceiling. He eventually propped himself up on his elbows.

Who would come here?

He dragged himself out of bed and went into the bathroom. He looked at his own reflection. Black and blond hair poked out everywhere. There were dark circles under his eyes. His tongue felt thick in his dry mouth. He used his real hand to drink out of the sink faucet.

The intercom continued to chime.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and ran his fingers through his hair. The moisture on his fingers did nothing to tame his hair. He felt like he had a hangover. He felt like he had dried up from the inside. He felt like he needed a shower.

The intercom continued to chime.

It must have been Doc coming to check on him. He suddenly worried about how long he had been asleep. The lights on the ship had that timeless hospital feel and he didn't actually know when he'd fallen into bed anyway.

He finally left the sanctuary of the bathroom and ventured out into the living quarters. Knives was nowhere to be found, but the door to his bedroom was open.

He must have been curious, too.

Vash looked down and answered the door. He was looking at where Doc's eyes should have been, but his eyes met instead with a chest…an ample chest. Before he could even raise his eyes to see a face, a fist grabbed hold of his hoodie by the neck and he felt himself being jerked into the corridor. He caught sight of Milly's face just before her other fist connected with his cheek.

For a minute there, he saw stars.

She slammed him up against the wall hard and brought her fist up to her shoulder, ready to hit him again. His cheek was already bleeding into his mouth. He'd only seen her get this angry once before, and she'd been in a "must hit Vash" state then as well. She glared at him, her fist ready to fly at the drop of a hat. She seemed like she was waiting for him to stand up for himself. He didn't particularly want to get hit again, but then again, he couldn't think of any reason she shouldn't hit him. He'd screwed up. No, it was more than just a screw up. It was a colossal fuck up. He wasn't paying attention and Meryl's life had been at stake. Any pain she meted out today would be just a tiny fraction of the agony he deserved.

He did find a bit of solace, though. At least she didn't have her stun gun.

Knives had been listening from his room as his brother had made his way towards the portal. He couldn't believe Vash would actually let them in here. He'd probably told them all his secrets. They were probably waiting to get their hands on him. He had some kind of sick delusion that these inferior beings were capable of friendship, but all they could do was hate. That little one…he had no idea how she could have seen the things she'd seen. He knew she wasn't a plant. It wasn't like there were other independents. In his youth, he'd scoured the planet looking for others like him…others he could use against Vash. He never found any, though, and had to use those wretched humans instead.

He was pulled out of his thoughts of unrequited revenge when he heard a surprised gasp come out of his brother. He looked up just in time to see Vash being yanked unceremoniously into the hall by a larger-than-average human.

It was touching his brother.

He saw a fist fly and connect with Vash's cheek. Vash was slammed up against the wall.

It was hurting his brother.

All rational sense immediately left Knives as he tore out of his room. He sent a mental attack towards the human, an attack that would have normally rendered the human dead, but nothing happened…

Vash had been right.

In a flash, he ran through the living quarters and just as he realized what he was doing, he crossed the threshold to the room. An unfamiliar imbalance in his body nearly made him fall over as his arms went slack. He realized too late the position he was in as he looked at the scene in front of him. Vash was pinned against the wall by what looked to be a huge female human. Her hair was in her face, so he couldn't make out what she was thinking, but she looked like she was about to hit Vash again. An odd sense of powerlessness came over him…one he hadn't felt in over a century. He was watching his brother be abused by another human. Again. It was all happening again, and there was nothing he could do about it. There was no one to protect them. It was almost too much to bear.

The human turned to him. Knives couldn't believe what he was seeing.

She couldn't be the same woman. Her eyes weren't the right color, and neither was her hair…but there was something about her. There was something about her that made him very afraid. She had the same determined look in her face, the same simple righteousness, the same aura. But it couldn't be her.

It couldn't be Rem.

Whether it was guilt or fear or insanity, Knives couldn't tell. He tried to walk backwards into the room and forget what he had seen, but his legs would not obey. Was she a relative he'd failed to eliminate? Had she somehow come back for revenge? He started to hyperventilate. The large woman turned her upper body and let go of Vash. She geared up to let her fist fly. Knives closed his eyes.

He heard a loud smack, but felt no pain. He slowly opened his eyes to see that Vash had intercepted the punch with his prosthetic hand. The woman was staring at Vash, a surprised look on her face. Vash just stared back, his eyes suddenly hard.

So his brother really was going to keep his promise? Knives took a deep breath and lost consciousness.

* * *

"Milly, please. What are you still doing here?" Vash was getting exasperated. Milly was like an unwelcome ball of sunshine that was currently turning his living quarters upside down. And she was pouring everything she was looking for down the sink. 

He sighed as yet another bottle of whiskey got poured down the drain. He held the cold compress to his cheek as he sank lower into his chair. With Milly around, he felt completely out of control. Where was metered, cautious action? Where was reason? "Where is Meryl?" She might have started out being pushy, but he was feeling more and more like she was the only one around who was really able to understand him. Plus, she never barged in and started restructuring his life.

Milly smiled obliviously as she made her way around the room, picking up dirty dishes and clothes along the way and sorting them into their respective piles. She suddenly spotted a bottle of alcohol behind a chair and made a bee-line towards it. She grasped it victoriously and returned to the kitchen to pour every last drop of alcohol down the drain. She even rinsed the bottles out. "I took her off the case."

She…WHAT? Vash gulped. "You…you…can do that?" All the horror scenarios that flashed in front of his eyes when he first encountered the girls and heard the term "24 hours surveillance" suddenly returned. He jumped out of his chair. This couldn't be happening. "But…but…WHY?"

"Mr. Vash. There's no need to yell." She smiled at him. "Among other things, she was attacked by your brother, so she's officially become part of your case. Doesn't it seem like a conflict of interest to have someone who's been physically assaulted by her assignment's brother still on the case? Hmm?"

"Well, yeah…I mean…there are a lot of reasons why she might…BUT YOU HIT ME! How is that different?"

Milly continued bustling around the room. "Oh Mr. Vash. You're so silly. That's called 'damage control,' and it happens to be my specialty!"

Damage control? She had to be kidding. Another argument died in his throat. This was pointless. He sat back down, slumped back into his chair and tried to ignore the girl's presence. It wasn't like he didn't like Milly. She was one of his closest friends, one of his _only_ friends. But right now, he really wanted to be by himself. He actually wanted to drink himself into oblivion, but any chance he had of doing that was currently being rinsed down the sink. He was so tired and so worn out and he just couldn't deal with Milly's perma-happiness right now.

He got quiet. "Is…Meryl hurt?"

Milly stopped moving. Her expression was thoughtful. "No, I think she's going to be fine. She's just a little overwhelmed with the situation is all." She glanced over at the couch where Knives lay unconscious and looked him over for a moment. Then she turned back to the kitchen and attacked the counter with a clean rag. "As soon as we get Mr. Knives fixed up, everyone should be peachy keen!"

Vash looked at his brother. God…if it could only be that easy. He removed the compress from Knives forehead and walked to the bathroom to rewet it. As he made his way back to the couch, he realized Knives was coming around. He set the compress on the table and knelt down by Knives. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Knives eyebrows creased and he tried to get up. His arms still weren't working. He continued to lie there for a moment. Vash tried to give him a hand. "Get off of me," he snapped at his brother. He used his abdominal muscles to pull himself up. He looked at Vash. "Why don't my arms work yet?" This was getting more and more frustrating.

Vash smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of his head. "Well, you see…I don't actually know. Doc figured if I knew how to reactivate them, then you might be able to get it out of me."

Knives sneered. "Well…get someone here who knows how to make them work."

Vash continued to smile sheepishly. "Funny thing! See…the only people who know how to activate them are, well, human…and nobody wants to come reactivate them until you're administered a sedative or you promise not to kill anybody. So…it looks like you might be S. O. L. for a while there, buddy." He continued to give his brother the fake smile as Knives gave him a look that could kill.

Knives grumbled at the inconvenience. So this was how it was going to be: they were going to hold his body hostage until his mind capitulated. He sat against the couch and looked past his dopey brother to see that the human from before was standing by the counter, twisting a washrag in her hand. He sat up straighter when he realized he was being watched.

"What are you doing here," he demanded.

Milly stepped forward defiantly. "Mr. Vash…he's my friend. And he needs help."

Vash turned to give her a look. What was she talking about? He didn't need help with Knives. It was his job to take care of Knives. And himself? He was fine! Before he could state his rebuttal, however, Knives had already spoken. "You think punching him in the face is going to help him?"

Milly's face sharpened into an angry expression. "That was because he allowed you to hurt my partner. You should be ashamed of yourself! She's so tiny and you've got brand new arms!"

Knives smiled a little. "Did she happen to mention that she is the one who graciously decided to remove my arms?"

Milly looked very perturbed. "Oh, my no. She failed to mention that." She turned and looked down. She turned back. "That wasn't very nice of her at all." She _was_ very similar to Rem: simplistic to a fault.

Knives continued to smile. "I'm glad we agree on that." He kept looking into her eyes. She really did feel so familiar. Old feelings began to wear his smile down. Rem was the only human he ever really cared about. He had decided she could live…not anybody else. When he was younger, he tried to play it off as an act of mercy for his kid brother to bring her along, but that was far from the truth. He botched the plan. He hadn't accounted for everything. She had chosen the humans over them, but he missed her so much, sometimes he even had to admit to himself that he would have forgiven her. "I need to talk to you," he suddenly stated. He looked at Vash. "Alone."

Vash looked at him like Knives was out of his mind. He looked at Milly like Knives was out of his mind. "You can't be --"

Milly spoke up. "It's okay, Mr. Vash. I can take care of myself."

Vash looked between the two one more time. He sighed and exited the room into the corridor. He hoped Milly knew what she was doing.

He sighed, suddenly feeling very alone and checked his flask. Half full. Where was Meryl?

* * *

"Do you know what we are?" Knives asked. 

"Yes. You and Vash are plants…independents I think," she answered back.

"How much has he told you about our pasts?"

Milly thought. "He's told me some… He's told Meryl more, I think." She moved over to one of the chairs by the couch and sat down.

Knives thought this over. It made quite a bit of sense, but still didn't account for all that he had seen. "Did he tell you about the Great Fall?" He hesitated. "Did he tell you about…Rem?"

Milly answered quietly. "Yes, he did."

Knives felt like he had lost his mind. What was the point in rehashing the past with this human who didn't have anything to do with it? What kind of relevant judgment could she make on the whole situation? Still, he felt compelled to ask…

He looked down at the useless hands in his lap. "Do you think…I'm evil?" He couldn't look into those eyes anymore.

She was quiet for a moment. "No. No, I don't think you're evil. I just think…you made a mistake."

Knives considered extorting a promise from the human never to breathe a word of this conversation to anyone else, but he realized at this point he'd already said too much for contingency plans and that he really didn't trust humans to keep their promises anyway. This room was probably bugged anyway.

He asked the question he'd wanted to ask Rem so many times. Rem always seemed to have a simple answer. It was irritating and safe at the same time. "Do you think I was wrong? What…would you have done?"

Milly took a deep breath. "I really don't know."

Knives head shot up. He was angry now. "How can you not know! You know what I did. You know what I've done to Vash, to other humans. How can you sit there and say that?"

"It's true," Milly started. "What you did to Mr. Vash was very, very cruel. He's your brother and you should never, ever treat family like that." Knives sighed, taking this in. He was surprised when she started again. "However, if what I understand is correct, then you honestly believed that what you were doing was in Vash's best interests. You were trying to take care of him." She trailed off. "If my brothers and sisters were hurt by someone else, I don't know what I'd do."

Something in Knives broke. It was the same simple logic, the logic he'd been telling himself for decades would condemn him. But…had he been wrong all along? Had he been mistaken about Rem from the start? Was he just looking for a ghost in this stranger? He leaned back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. His voice was weary. "You can leave now."

Milly looked at him for a moment. He looked like he was in a lot of pain. "Okay, Mr. Knives." She turned to leave. Before she got to the door, she hesitated and turned back to Knives. "Do you need anything before I leave?"

He shook his head no.

* * *

Meryl had been in her room all afternoon. She tried to relax, but she couldn't. Crunching numbers and filing papers were the only ways she knew how to calm her nerves. She tried to read through a paperback she'd found in the sick bay, but it was a cheesy romance and she just couldn't get into it. On the first page, she could already tell that the brooding rogue would fall for the delicate flower. She made a cup of tea and tried to think of something to do with herself. She was really hoping that Milly would have been back sooner, but the girl had been gone for hours. She sat at the table with her tea and looked out the small portal. 

Was she over reacting? Was leaving the only real option she had? Vash was in turns shutting her out and letting her get too close. It seemed like he was falling apart. Every time she saw him, it was like he was on the verge of tears. She wanted to help him, but the idea seemed impractical at best and pretentious at worst. Just what good would she be at helping him? She couldn't even figure out what to do with herself.

She felt a strange sensation, like someone else was in the room with her. Despite her initial anxiety, it actually felt like a soothing presence. She looked away from the window and almost fell out of her chair. A short man was sitting on her bed smiling at her. He looked like he was calmly trying to speak to her, but she couldn't here anything that he was saying.

Her throat closed up. She could only get one word out. "…Dad?"

As soon as she'd spoken, she sat straight up in her chair. The suns had gone down. Her tea was cold. Nobody was in the room with her. It must have been a dream. Her dad had been dead for 5 years now. Still…it had felt unsettlingly real.

She needed to get out of there.

She grabbed a jacket and high-tailed it out of her room. She didn't care where she was going. She just needed to go somewhere. She walked down the corridors, sometimes trailing her fingers along the wall. When she'd been walking around earlier, she'd come across one place that she couldn't get out of her head. It was the cold sleep chamber, and if she was correct, it looked like people were still in there hibernating. It was amazing to her. This was how they had all gotten here. They'd all traveled millions of miles through space in order to find a new world. What kind of courage had it taken these people to abandon the only home they'd known and search out a new planet, with only probability as their guide?

She could barely imagine.

She stepped into the antechamber and pulled one of the heavy coats off of its hook. The cold sleep chamber really was…cold. All these people were in here, asleep, with their frozen hopes and dreams. It was such a departure from everyday desert life.

She saw a button near the entrance and realized she would need special clearance to get in. On closer inspection, however, she realized the door was slightly ajar. She pushed it slightly and the door folded into the wall. She walked in timidly, looking all around her. It was surprisingly moist in here as well. She could see her breath in front of her as she breathed.

She walked in a few paces before realizing someone else was also in here.

* * *

A/N: Hey everybody. Hope you're still enjoying this story. The next chapter is going to be big: Meryl and Vash have a heart to heart...of sorts...that kind of goes awry...and Doc finally explains what the hell is going on with everybody. Decisions are made, will hearts be broken? YOU WILL KNOW IF YOU READ! And, as always, reviews really do make this writing thing easier! THANKS GUYS! 


	16. chapter 16

The cold sleep chamber had a number of paths running its entire length. Meryl looked up at the top of the chamber. It must have been a thousand feels high.

So many lives on just one ship…

She saw the figure directly in front of her. Even through the freezing haze, she could tell by the spiky silhouette exactly who it was.

Good god. He was in her thoughts and everywhere she went. This was getting stupid.

He didn't seem to notice her presence. She stopped walking and just watched him for a moment. He seemed to be relaxed for a change. He was leaning on his elbows with his legs straight out in front of him facing the other end of the ship. He was gazing at the sleep capsules above them. Slowly, he kept tilting his head back and back and back…until he saw her.

He stopped for a moment, surprise evident on his upside-down face. He finally sat right-side up and turned around to look at her. She couldn't tell by his eyes if he wanted her to stay there or to leave.

She suddenly felt like a very intrusive little insurance girl.

"The door, it was --" He was still watching her, not giving her a clue as to what she should do next. She broke eye contact and looked at her shoes. "I'm just…" She said quietly. She looked at him once more, her eyebrows knit together. "Should I go?"

For a split second, a brief flash of something (need? regret? indigestion?) surfaced in his eyes. He stayed quiet a moment. "Only if you feel like you should." He didn't move to invite her over or turn to push her away. He just watched her.

She figured that was as much a clue as she was going to get. She took a deep calming breath and walked over to sit to the right of him. He followed her with his eyes as she adopted the same position he had been in when she found him. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't look at him. Instead, she just looked ahead at the rows and rows of sleep capsules that seemed to go on forever. She realized this place had a weird energy about it…almost a healing sensation. Eventually, she heard him readjust his legs so that he was mirroring her once again.

In this room full thousands of people, they were totally alone. She waited a few minutes expecting him to begin waxing philosophical on the meaning of life or the journey the humans had taken, but instead he said nothing.

Damn, an impasse. These days, every time they were alone together…

She felt something touch her hand and slowly looked down. Vash had slid his arm over so that the length of his pinky was resting just so slightly against hers. Despite her most valiant attempts to remain calm, her heart started thudding against her rib cage. Could he feel that? 'Of course he can, idiot!' she snapped at herself. 'Whether you like it or not, he is Vash the Stampede, remember? He hasn't survived for more than a century by not knowing where his hands were.' There couldn't be any doubt about it, really. He was touching her with his real hand, after all.

She cautiously looked up at his face, stupidly afraid that if he remembered her sitting here beside him, he might move his hand. She didn't have to worry, though. He was still looking up with childlike wonder. She almost looked away, but thought that his chin looked a little weird…a little purple. She hesitated, not wanting to ruin the moment, but his chin really didn't look normal. "Vash?" she asked concerned.

He turned to her and looked into her eyes. "Hnn?"

Her eyes went wide as she finally got a good look at him. She hopped up onto her knees, all thoughts of hand touching obliterated from her mind. "Jeez! What happened to your face?" The entire left side was completely swollen and bruised.

Vash suddenly looked like he'd just been shaken awake. He watched her undo her heavy coat as she searched for something, muttering the entire time. As the coat fell a little off her shoulder, he winced as he saw the already-fading bruises on her neck. She finally found what she was looking for and pulled it out of her pocket. She forced it at him without hesitation. He recognized what she was shoving at him. He took the handkerchief out of her hand and regarded it a moment. How was a dry handkerchief supposed to relieve a swollen cheek? He didn't know, but as he pressed the folded cloth against his face, somehow it did. He found himself wishing there was something he could give her that could make her feel the same way.

"Well?" she asked as she buttoned her overcoat. Right…he hadn't answered, but he didn't want to say anything that might distract her. He liked it when she was like this. It was just too bad he only got this kind of treatment when he was hurt. She gently moved his hand away and looked at the wound more closely a minute before making a sympathetic pained look and settling back on her knees. He pressed the cloth to his cheek again. "You must have been knocked more senseless than usual."

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Too cruel, insurance g--" He remembered what Milly had said about Meryl being off the case. His grin faltered a bit.

Meryl's face went from pained to serious. "Did…Milly do that?"

"Yeah, and she probably would have done a lot worse if Knives hadn't --"

"Knives?!" Meryl practically yelled. "Did he hurt her?"

Shit. "No, Milly's fine! She's --"

"Where is she now?" she demanded.

He winced. "I think…she's talking…to Knives."

"BY HERSELF?!" Meryl seemed to implode with worry before she started to shout again. "Mr. Vash! Of all the incredibly…" She couldn't even put words together properly. "How could you leave them alone?" she pleaded. She knew he was Vash's brother and all, but come on! He was still Knives!

Frustration overtook him. He took the handkerchief and crumpled it into the palm of his hand while he extended his index finger. "She **made** me!" He pointed to his cheek for emphasis.

Meryl's face went from worried to sad. They really were between a rock and a hard spot. Vash needed to get his brother to stop hating humans, but that meant Knives would have to be exposed to humans…starting with one of the ones she cared about most.

She realized Vash was looking at her. "I'm sorry for yelling," he whispered.

She shook her head and plastered a smile on her face. "It's not that, idiot."

The expression on his face didn't change. She had been right. He could have his pick. This was incredibly stupid, incredibly moronic, incredibly dangerous, incredibly thoughtless, incredibly irresponsible, etc. "I think that it might be a good idea for you and Milly to leave." There. He'd said it. It took him the better part of a week to get it out, but he said it.

"Absolutely not!" she shouted. "This is my jo--" She couldn't catch herself fast enough. Her mind went blank. She'd just been stripped of her best, most useful, safest reason for staying. _Shit_.

Vash turned away. "No," he whispered. "It's not." He sounded broken. "You're not obligated to stay here anymore."

_Double shit_. Milly had obviously told him what was going on. She had limited options. Her heart was leaning towards tears, but her mind was totally focused on finding a reason to stay. "What? And I'm just supposed to leave Milly here by herself?"

Vash sighed as he rubbed his tired eyes. Of course there would be an argument. _She should leave, too_, he thought. _It's my job to take care of Knives._

"Jesus Christ!" She erupted unexpectedly. "Would you please stop saying that?"

He looked at her confused. Had he just said that out loud?

"All Milly and I want to do is help and you keep sending us away!"

"But it's not your problem!"

"Listen buddy," she jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "When one of my friends is insinuating that a murder-suicide in the desert is a valid solution, it's my problem. When I have to figure out a way to protect everyone I love from a homicidal plant WITHOUT KILLING HIM, it's my problem. And when I'm almost killed by the very same ungrateful bastard, _it's_," jab, "_my_," jab, "_problem_!"

He knew she was right, but hearing her recount the last few weeks like she just did only served to highlight his most recent bout of gross negligence. He sighed again.

She waited for him to say something, but he didn't. She had two choices: apologize or leave him alone, and she certainly wasn't apologizing. She stood up and turned to go. She stopped and looked at him.

"Vash, you're such an idiot," she said very quietly with a whole lot more tenderness than that combination of words usually garnered. She took a deep breath. She couldn't stop now. "Who's supposed to take care of you?"

He looked up at her, completely caught off guard, and for once, she didn't shy away from his gaze. His heart started pounding. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. What was he supposed to say to that?

"There you two are!"

Both their heads snapped up and looked towards the voice. Vash was both relieved and angered beyond belief to be interrupted right at that moment. Meryl was already walking away from him towards Doc. He'd just wanted that moment to last a little longer. He just wanted to feel that feeling a little more. Maybe with a little more time, he could have thought of what to say.

Doc was talking to him, but he wasn't paying attention. He couldn't get her question out of his head.

Her voice cut through like a bell. "Vash?" she questioned softly. He looked straight at her. "Did you hear any of that?"

No. No he hadn't heard any of it. None of it was important to him at the moment. No Stampede, no gun battles, no maniacal brothers, no nefarious plots. Just her. He wanted to erase the last three minutes so he could have a do-over. And he'd just told her to leave… His heart was heavy with the feeling that something incredible had just passed him by. God, he was staring at her, wasn't he. His fake smile flew onto his face as his fake arm scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry! I missed all of it! My ears must be full of wax!" So stupid. He hoped she hadn't noticed.

Meryl looked at Doc and hesitated before turning back to Vash. "Doc wants to reactivate Knives' arms and he needs your help."

Vash hopped up. "Right-o!" He clapped his hands together. "Lead the way, Doc!"

Meryl stepped back to disengage herself and opened her mouth to excuse herself, but Doc spoke up first.

"And where are you headed, Miss Stryfe?"

Her brain went dead. "I, um, I was going to --"

Doc smiled. "If you don't have anything better to do, would you mind accompanying me? There are a few things I'd like to talk to the three of you about. I think it'll clear up some things."

The walk to Vash's room was slightly painful for everyone. Vash wasn't able to help himself. If he didn't make a fool out of himself right then and there, he might start crying, and if he started crying at this point, he didn't think he was going to be able to stop. He didn't even have a _reason _to cry. He just knew it would be bad if he started. Any hall he could make the wrong turn down, any vent he could get his finger stuck in, any kind of trouble he could get into on the way to the room, he took the opportunity. His sudden bout of hyperactivity left Meryl frazzled. She was already anxious about what she'd said to Vash and nervous about what Doc was going to say and she didn't need him clowning around like a complete idiot. Doc and Meryl tried to make small talk. He relayed bits and pieces of Milly's experience with Knives, saying the whole situation gave him hope, but they really just couldn't get there soon enough. Doc and Meryl sighed when they finally got to the room. They let Vash go in first.

Vash walked into the living quarters and turned on some lights. He saw Knives exactly where he'd last seen him. He was looking away from Vash.

"Hey," he said carefully. "Doc's here to reactivate your arms."

Knives didn't look at him. "Show him in."

"And…" Vash hesitated. "Doc brought Meryl with him."

Knives didn't say anything. He didn't move a muscle.

Vash sighed. His clown façade was no match for this kind of heaviness. He looked back at the humans and motioned them to come in. Doc walked past him and went straight to Knives. Meryl walked in and took a step past Vash and stopped. She didn't want to go any further. She looked at Knives. He seemed so, docile, so despondent.

He seemed like a different person altogether.

Was it a trap? Was he just trying to lure them in so they would let their guards down? She jumped as she felt a nudge in her back.

"Relax," Vash put on a decent smile. "Nothing's going to happen to you."

She smiled back weakly. "Do…you have anything to drink?"

Vash cocked an eyebrow in surprise. He thought a moment. "Well…I _did_…" He looked over at the counter covered in empty bottles. Meryl followed his eyes and was shocked at the sight. He got a mischievous glint in his eye and he winked at her. "_But_…I think I've got you covered." He went to the kitchen and pulled two glasses out of a cabinet and put them on the counter. He pulled his flask out of his back pocket and divided its contents equally. Guilt and apprehension suddenly hit Meryl as she began to feel like the world's biggest enabler. He picked up the glasses and handed one to her. She held it as he clinked his against hers. He smiled at her before downing his drink. He put the glass on the counter. She stared at her glass for a moment before taking a deep breath and downing everything in one go. She coughed a few times and looked at Vash. He looked impressed.

He kept looking at her. He didn't know if she was blushing from the alcohol or from the fact that he had his eyes on her but she looked awfully pretty that way. She looked at the counter and set the glass down. She looked back at him.

She smiled self-consciously as she raised an eyebrow. "What? Is there something on my face?"

Vash smiled back and shook his head. He felt different. He couldn't get her question out of his mind. Nobody had ever asked him that before.

"Alright," Doc said. Vash looked over to see Knives flexing his fingers. "I think we can begin." Meryl shot Doc an apprehensive look. "Come now, everything is okay."

Vash took the lead. Meryl followed. Doc was sitting in the chair facing the couch, so she sat beside Vash, who was sitting in between her and Knives. It was still weird being in the same room with him.

Doc waited for everybody to get settled and then began. He looked them over. Each of them had some sort of bruising on them. They all looked tired. He wondered if telling them any of this really was a good idea. He took a deep breath, knowing, after all, that giving them this information was necessary. "Alright, you three have been through a lot of changes recently and since the research I've been doing is basically all inter-related, I figured I would just tell you all at once." He looked at Knives. "I suspect you've already put together most of the changes to your physiology." Knives nodded. "You no longer have your seeds…" Doc hesitated, "and they cannot be regenerated…but your plant traits remain intact. You simply cannot use your seeds to pull your energy together and magnify it. Considering the way plants age, and your inability to use your energy, I would speculate that you will still live a very long time." He looked between Vash and Knives. "The telepathy plants normally exhibit might be subdued. Have you two tested it out?"

Knives looked at Vash. Vash suddenly whipped his head around and looked at Knives, an annoyed look on his face. "Yeah," Vash said, in a peeved tone. "It still works."

Doc observed. "Excellent. That's excellent." Doc turned back to Knives. "Do you have any other questions?"

Knives shook his head no. "As soon as I get access to a computer console, I'm sure all my questions will have answers."

Doc nodded his head. "Very good." He turned to Vash. "I'm afraid I have a bit of bad news for you." Vash was all attention. He took a deep breath. "My boy, I've told you for almost half a century that you need to start taking care of yourself, but what do you do? You don't even think of yourself, do you?" He paused a moment. "Now, it most certainly isn't a death sentence, but the articles I've dug up on the matter don't paint a very rosy picture, either."

Vash was nervous now. "Just spit it out."

"Your hair…turning black…it means you've used too much energy. You've used your angel arm four times. Each time, you've used an enormous amount of energy. Your body can't sustain that kind of energy expenditure."

Knives stiffened. What was the doctor saying?

Doc addressed Vash again. "That last blast…it was too much. Our satellites picked it up as the strongest blast you've sent out. We corrected for distance and it was still your largest energy expenditure by far." He took a deep breath. "Vash, listen to me carefully. You can't use any more of your plant energy or _you will_ die. As it looks now, your lifespan has already been shortened considerably. Just…keep that in mind and don't do anything rash, okay? This is your life we're talking about."

Vash looked up at the ceiling. That was a lot of information to digest. He felt a pressure on his fake hand. Meryl was squeezing it in hers. He smiled reassuringly. Really, the news was more comforting than anything. After 140 years, he was starting to wonder whether or not he would ever be able to die.

The effect the news had on Knives, however, was not as positive. He had set Vash off twice, and both times, he had justified it by saying it was for his own good…but now, this human was saying that it was killing him. Knives was killing his only brother. Everything he had done since the beginning was for Vash and he was killing him.

Doc turned to Meryl and smiled warmly. "And Miss Stryfe…I'm sorry that I haven't talked to you about this sooner, but I wanted to make absolutely sure before I talked about it. Have you ever heard of 'imprinting?'"

Meryl shook her head, confused.

Vash piped up. "You mean, like a baby duck?"

Meryl looked at him. "What's a duck?"

Doc smiled. "No, not like a baby duck, Vash." He turned to Meryl again. "Miss Stryfe, You've certainly filed reports on plant disaster victims, am I right?" She shook her head yes. It was some of the most harrowing fieldwork she'd had to do. "So you are aware of the strange demographic characteristics of plant workers."

Meryl started to speak cautiously, thinking back to charts she'd had to memorize during school. "Yes…the life expectancy of people who work with plants averages out to be a few years over the general population's life expectancy of 37. Plant owners use this statistic to lure teenagers and young men to work for them, saying the job is safe and stable. What they fail to mention, however is that the median age at which a plant worker dies is a little less than 27 years of age. It is very strange. The average is brought up by a handful of engineers claiming extraordinarily long lives, but most agents brush it off as unreliable data, especially since birth and death records have been in shambles here due to shoddy record keeping between cities and unreliable census counts. I honestly wouldn't even be surprised if it was the government putting out the false statistics just to get new workers in the plants."

Doc nodded approvingly. "Yes, that is correct." Doc seemed to bubble with excitement. "While I was investigating Vash's condition, I came across some very interesting articles that involved the long-life phenomenon of certain plant engineers. You see, Miss Stryfe, those statistics in all likelihood have not been falsified. It seems that the engineers that know what they are doing and take best care of the plants seem to survive longer, while careless workers who damage the plants are harmed. It's as if the same radiation that causes cancer can also fortify, depending on what kind of treatment the plant receives. And there seems to be some kind of residual radiation marker left on the engineer. It's been postulated that plants can then sense these engineers out. There have been a few well-documented cases where plant engineers lived several decades past a century, the most well documented case being that of Count Revenant Vasquez."

Meryl noticed both Vash and Knives stiffen. That was the man Vash was accused of murdering… He had lived in July. If he was dead, did that mean Knives had killed him?

"Yes, the count was at least 130 years old, but in one of the files I found, I discovered a very interesting bit of information. It turns out that he might have actually been closer to 170 years old. It seems too fantastic to be true, but he might have been an original SEEDS ship crew member named William Conrad."

William Conrad? Meryl blinked as images flooded her memory. She saw a man and a woman leaning against a tree in a green field. She felt nervous, but the man came up and was kind. She felt unending gratitude towards him. She saw a child crying…he looked like…Knives.

She suddenly glared openly at Knives, but he didn't look back at her. He'd killed him. He'd killed that nice man… That BASTARD!

Doc was still talking excitedly. "—partially explains your recent abilities to heal so fast. That will probably wear off eventually, but it's hard to tell, considering most engineers are exposed to only a fraction of the radiation you've been exposed to their entire lives. There might be some other strange side effects…some engineers reported apparitions of the dead and other strange extrasensory sensations, but this is just--" Doc's eyes flitted over to Vash momentarily and he stopped. He looked absolutely stricken. "Vash…are you alright?"

What had he done? What had this cursed body done? Was Doc saying what he thought he was saying? Had he so lengthened Meryl's lifespan beyond its normal range? This was almost worse than killing her. God, she could hate him forever. He looked at her, his eyes heavy with unspoken apologies. For her part, she looked shocked, but not particularly hateful. That would change, though, he was sure of it. Having to watch her loved ones be claimed by time, aging imperceptivity slowly…having to move from town to town so no one recognized her…not being able to let anybody in because she'd live on while everyone around her died…she would eventually grow to hate the body she was trapped in, and she'd grow to hate him, as well.

What had he done?

He felt her hand gently rest on his shoulder and he heard her ask what was wrong. He couldn't take it. He had sentenced her to this kind of existence and she was trying to comfort him? He gently took her hand into his and placed it on the couch. Then he stood and without saying anything, he went to his room.

Meryl was at a loss for words. Things suddenly made sense. She was about to jump up and go after Vash when Knives caught her in his gaze.

"I believe it's time for the two of you to leave."

She looked at Doc. He nodded and they saw themselves out.

Knives sighed, relaxing a bit now that the humans were gone. He looked at Vash's room. Everything he'd done, it had all been in an effort to help Vash see the truth. He sent the humans after Vash in an effort to force Vash back to him, but it never worked. They carved scar after scar into his body, but they never had the power to kill him. Only he had that power.

And he'd used it.

* * *

Meryl walked with Doc to her room. She really was at a loss for words. This was not something she imagined would happen to her in a million years. She had a good education, a good job, a partner who cared about her, and an assignment that promised fast promotions and a prosperous future upon her return. Now, everything looked questionable. Well, she still had the education, but her job…would she really be able to take another assignment after this? And Milly would always care, but at this point, she wasn't even her partner really. Her assignment: Vash. Now she didn't even have that. And her future? It was wide open...frighteningly so. 

Doc bid her farewell at her room and she waited for him to walk away before she turned towards Milly's quarters. Milly opened up and she launched her small body at her. She held Milly tight.

"What's wrong, Meryl?" Milly asked concerned.

"I think…I need to leave," she said as calmly as she could.

"You mean...? But why?" Milly pulled Meryl away from her body to get a good look at her.

Where should she start? She'd abused her post to stalk the man she loved. She'd purposefully failed to report vital identifying information and history about Vash the Stampede, which was, by definition, an act of treason. She had recently become too personally involved in the case to continue working on it in good faith. Milly was going to have to report her demotion in her next assignment if she didn't show up at headquarters on her own. Throw in the fact that Vash would probably hate himself every time he saw her, and it was pretty clear that she had to leave. It was the only ethical decision she could make.

"I just…" She sighed. She couldn't tell her. "Milly…he asked me to."

Milly clearly had mixed feelings about this. "Does he know you decided to go?"

Meryl started crying. "I haven't told him yet."

Milly gathered her in a hug again. "You should really tell him, you know." She paused for a moment. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Meryl nodded vigorously against Milly. "Can I sleep here tonight?" she sobbed.

Milly nodded her head. "Yeah, of course you can stay here tonight."

* * *

She waited until afternoon. Milly went with her just like she promised. Milly hit the intercom button and they waited in front of the door. It slid open, Vash standing just beyond it. He looked so exhausted and sad it broke her heart. He looked surprised to see them. Meryl almost didn't have the courage to go through with it, but Milly pushed her inside. Vash stepped back and walked into the kitchen as they entered. He looked at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck with his real hand in a much more sedate version of his normally ridiculous gesture. He didn't make eye contact. 

Meryl looked around and saw Knives sitting in the chair in the living room. He didn't really pay attention to them. "Are we interrupting anything?" Meryl asked.

Vash shook his head no, but didn't say anything else.

She wished he would look at her, but it would probably make it harder to say what she was going to say. She took a deep breath. "I've decided…that it is in the best interest of everyone involved…if I return to the Bernardelli Insurance headquarters in December. My position as field agent has been compromised and I can no longer claim to be an objective observer. I've secured a seat on the next caravan out of here."

Knives spoke up without looking at them. "Milly can't leave."

Milly smiled, a little touched. "Now, now. I most certainly can leave, but don't worry, Mr. Knives. I'm not going anywhere."

Vash didn't look at her. "So, you're really going?"

She tried to control her chin. "Yes…unless…there's a reason to stay that I've overlooked…"

He sighed, he was still looking at the counter. "You should go if you feel like you should."

Meryl almost lost it, but she kept it together. That's not what she wanted him to say. She swallowed all her sorrow and put on a happy face. "Right!" She took a deep breath. "Well, I guess I should finish packing." She walked to the door and turned around. "Good…bye…"

He didn't look at her.

As soon as the door slid shut behind her, Milly glared at Vash. "You're just going to let her go? Without even a goodbye?" She stepped closer to him and realized he was weeping. She wanted in turns to hug him and pound the crap out of him. He finally made eye contact and her heart broke. She was suddenly sorry. "I apologize. I know this is hard for everybody. But you should have said goodbye. Sempai deserves that…if nothing else. You'll hate yourself if you miss the chance, and you know it."

With that, she left, leaving the two brothers in silence.

Vash sat around for a few hours thinking about what Milly had said. He needed to say something to her. He need at the very least to apologize for everything that had happened since she'd become involved with him. He just couldn't believe she was actually leaving. She'd become such a fixture in his life. He didn't know what it was going to be like without her.

He slipped out of his room and walked to Meryl's. He hesitated, wondering if it was the right thing to do to try to talk to her. On impulse, he hit the intercom button and waited.

No one answered.

He held it down. "Meryl? It's me."

Still no answer. She was probably still angry with him.

"I just…would like to talk to you for a minute…I couldn't think of what to say...before."

Still no answer. Had he already pushed her too far away?

"If you decide you want to talk to me, I'll be waiting outside."

With that, he stepped backwards until he hit the wall and slid down to the ground. He wasn't going to move from this spot until she came out.

* * *

AN: ok. an update. i hope you guys like it. 

btw,

THANKS FOR ALL THE FREAKING AWESOME REVIEWS! You guys sure did like that last chapter! I hope this one pleases as well!!!


	17. chapter 17

A light shake of his shoulder woke him up. His head snapped up, but his exhausted eyes were still slightly unfocused.

"What are you doing out here, Mr. Vash?" Milly asked him concerned.

He looked around confused. What _was_ he doing here? Where the hell was he? He watched as Milly stood up and he saw the door behind her. _Meryl's door_. She was looking at him, but she punched the access button and the door slid open.

His voice sputtered out, "Wh-what are you doing?!" He couldn't imagine Meryl would be too pleased to be barged in on unannounced.

Milly smiled and walked in. "I'm getting some pudding." From inside the room, she called out, "Do you want any?"

From his vantage point, he didn't see anyone in the room. He stood up quickly and stopped in the doorway. The only person he saw was Milly. His heart stopped and his brain failed him. This just did not compute. His helpless mind was visually assaulted with the fact that he didn't see her anywhere. "Meryl?"

The one word summed up all of his dismay and Milly looked at him, her eyes full of worry. "Don't you remember, Mr. Vash?"

He tried to keep his composure, but it was slipping fast. He put his hands into his hair and he balled his fists. "Remember what?" he hissed.

Milly repeated the news hesitantly. "She told you…that she was leaving…on the next caravan." She took a deep breath. "The caravan left yesterday, about an hour…after she talked to you. She said…you'd told her to go. Was that not right?"

He'd been too late? Impossible. He slumped into the nearest chair. His eyes stared blindly. This was just impossible.

Milly didn't know what to say. She noticed a small envelope on the table. She pushed it into his line of vision. The small object was the only thing his optic nerves seemed to be able to pick up. With shaky fingers, he took the letter with his name on it and carefully opened it up, afraid of what it might say, but even more afraid not to read it. There was one sentence, drawn with the expert penmanship that he'd seen Meryl write in a thousand times:

"I'll miss being your insurance girl."

He read it several times, hoping he'd find something more, some hidden meaning, some indication that he wasn't really as alone as he felt. He flipped it over. There was nothing there. Really, he should have been glad for her. She wasn't dead. There weren't many people who could make that statement after staying with him for so long. She had her own life to live and it was selfish to want her here with him. He wasn't thinking about her interests, he was only thinking about himself. He was so selfish. He sat absolutely still for a moment before slowly resting his forehead on the table. Inertia set in as his entire body felt rooted to the spot. He didn't have any intention of ever moving again.

Milly watched him, slightly flustered. She might have been perceptive, but that didn't mean she could deal with every emotion that got thrown at her. She could handle combative Vash, unruly Vash, drunk Vash, goofy Vash, but she'd never had to take on heart-broken Vash. Meryl had been the expert in that area. She hesitantly reached over and touched his shoulder. "Vash?" she asked as a friend. "Are…are you okay?"

He was unresponsive. She paused. She waited for a good minute for him to say something, to move, to do anything. She almost began to speak again, but his head shot up inhumanly fast and she nearly jumped, her hand involuntarily snapping back. Vash had never given her the creeps…until now. His tone of voice was completely…normal. "I'm fine, Milly, really." His mouth was set in the quintessential carefree Vash™ smile. But his eyes…she'd never seen anything more empty or hollow in her life. He had tears freely streaming down his face. She tried to conceal her concern, but she could barely stand to look at him.

"You…you don't look fine, Vash," she finally stammered out.

The smile on his face was starting to slip. His gentle voice began to break. "Really, it's okay. I understand why…why she left. Who wouldn't want to if they were in her position?" He let out a manic laugh. He tried to smile again, but it just looked all wrong. "Why would they send such nice girls after me in the first place?" he said mostly to himself. He looked at Milly and she felt trapped in his desperately empty eyes. "Please listen to me, Milly. You need to get away from me. You need to leave. I don't want to ruin your life, too."

Milly almost started laughing. "Vash, I'm absolutely not going to leave you. You're in no condition to be giving me orders." She was hesitant to touch him again. She could feel tiredness radiating off of him. "Let's go back to your room and I'll make you a nice cup of tea and you can relax. Does that sound nice?"

She was about to reach out to him when he stopped her. "Don't," he whispered. Tears were steadily dripping out of his eyes and down his face. "Please don't touch me."

She found herself flustered again. If this were Meryl, she'd simply pick her up and march the small woman into bed. But Vash… She was strong, but even she was no match for him. Besides, she really didn't want to fight him. Vash didn't need that kind of thing right now. He looked so unbelievably tired. "Alright, Vash, we'll do things your way. I won't touch you, but you have to go to bed."

The thought of walking almost made his stomach turn. He didn't want to think of the monumental effort it would take to move his cemented legs. He barely possessed the will to breathe. "Please," he begged, "just leave me alone."

Milly straightened up. "Absolutely not. If you're not going to take care of yourself, then I'm going to have to do it for you. Now, if you don't want to walk, then I'm going to carry you, and if you don't let me carry you, then I'm going to call Doc."

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He let out a desperate noise. He'd meant for his voice to come out sounding intimidating, but it sound more like a teenager's immature cracking. "Get away from me! This is your life I'm talking about!"

She stood firmly. "No, Vash," she said quietly. "This is _your_ life. And I'm not going to watch as you squander it on self-pity. Now get up and go to bed or else I'm liable to become…not very nice!"

He let out a long breath and almost laughed at himself. They were fighting over whether or not he would stand up on his own. He didn't remember becoming this pathetic. He took a few more breaths before slowly getting to his feet. The thought of a cup of tea didn't really appeal to him, but the idea of a bed did. He could go into his room and lock the door and curl around a pillow and scream until he went to sleep or lost his voice, whichever came first.

Milly watched his progress from a safe distance. She stayed out of his personal space all the way to his room. She followed him into the living quarters. Knives watched as Vash slowly walked straight into his room, not pausing to acknowledge his presence. Knives felt an unbelievable concentration of sorrow seeping out of Vash. The door slid shut behind Vash.

Knives glared at Milly. "What did you do to him?"

She hadn't really done anything to Mr. Vash. "Me?" she asked innocently for clarification. She couldn't believe the irony here.

Knives snorted derisively and walked straight towards Vash's room.

"Mr. Knives…I wouldn't--"

The door slid closed before she could stop him.

Knives stood still as he took in the scene before him. His brother was buried under his blankets, curled in on himself. Anger grew inside of him. This sadness had been caused by humans. He was going to make sure Vash never felt this way again.

From somewhere under the covers, a sad and quiet voice emerged. "Please go away. I want to be alone."

Knives knew this wasn't true. Vash never wanted to be alone. Not really. He walked over to the bed and sat down. He put his hand on Vash's shoulder. He tried to convince himself that Vash had not actually flinched when he touched him. Knives wanted to comfort his brother, but these mechanical arms were just making things worse. His proclivity for taking what he wanted seized him and he realized that in this state, he could reconnect with Vash...the way they had been as kids. It would be very simple. Vash didn't look like he was in any condition to fight it, and he'd get what he wanted and he'd be able to help Vash at the same time. He hesitated, a small ethical dilemma forming on the outskirts of his rational thought, but he squashed it before he could give it any real thought. He was doing this for Vash.

He took a breath and then lay down beside his brother and pressed his forehead against the back of Vash's neck.

Instantly he was sucked into a communication link, the strength of which he had not been expecting. Vash hadn't been this open since they were kids. The loneliness his brother was feeling was unbearable. He couldn't understand it. Why was he so lonely? He was here for Vash!

Vash's mind was awash with guilt. When he realized his brother was there, he tried to sever the link, but he just could not manage it. He could not function anymore. And he found that he really didn't care whether Knives was there or not. He questioned his entire existence, knowing he'd never get an answer. Why had he been born? Was his purpose really to annihilate? Why had Rem let him live? Why hadn't he been able to protect Knives when they were little? Why hadn't he been a good enough brother? Why hadn't he been able to stop Knives from killing all those people? Why did he destroy everything he touched? Would he ever be able to love anybody freely? Would he ever be able to touch another living being without fear? Would he always feel this alone? Why hadn't he already died? Why couldn't he keep his promise to take care of Knives? Would this body destroy everything he cared about? Why did it have to be Meryl? Of all the people, why Meryl? Why couldn't just one person escape him unscathed? Why couldn't he do anything right? Why did he ruin the lives of everyone he cared about? Why did they have to die? Why had Rem let him live?

Why had Rem let him live?

Knives was stunned. He thought he'd find Vash's mind steeping in animosity, at least some of it for the humans, but the only person Vash hated was himself. Vash didn't even hate Knives for all the things he'd done. In fact, Vash assumed responsibility for everything. He internalized every single bit of it. Knives broke his physical contact with his brother and the psychic link diminished but didn't go away. He shook Vash lightly, trying to get him to react a little bit. Vash didn't move. He looked like he'd totally given up on everything. Knives couldn't think of anything to say. His eyes welled up with tears. He slowly realized there was absolutely nothing he could do to comfort his own brother. Vash still hadn't moved. Knives shook him again, a little desperate, hoping that this time the physical contact would awaken some kind of fight in his brother.

"Go away," Vash whispered, "and leave me alone, or you'll get destroyed, too." Vash started sobbing. "Go away now! Go away before I lose control and I hurt you! GO!"

Knives couldn't comprehend what his brother was telling him. Instead of leaving, he attempted to grab Vash and hold him close, but Vash pulled one of his arms out of the blanket and violently pushed him off, sending Knives stumbling across the room. Vash was now standing up, draped in blankets, squeezing a pillow to him. He stumbled over to a corner and sank to the ground. Vash was absolutely inconsolable. "Go away before you die like everybody else!"

Like…everybody else? Like…the humans? Did Vash…really think of him that way? He looked as Vash buried his head in the pillow to muffle his tortured screams. Knives thought it would stop, but it didn't. He just kept screaming all of his pain and his loneliness into that pillow. Knives found himself stumbling backwards, trying to get away from Vash, trying to get away from the horribly lost feeling that was being emptied into him through the psychic link. He tried to sever it, but he couldn't. He couldn't get that pain out of his head. All those years he thought Vash had been carelessly playing with humans…now he knew the truth. All this time he lamented the days when he knew exactly what Vash was thinking and feeling. Now he could feel everything and he just wished it would go away.

* * *

This was harder than Meryl had thought it would be. Leaving the ship caused her physical pain. The sense of isolation she felt when she was away from Vash was _nothing_ compared to the feeling that was caused by leaving the ship. She felt like some sort of invisible umbilical cord was stretching and ripping and tearing her apart as she traveled farther away from the ship's plants. She wondered if she would feel better in the next city. She wondered if this was how Vash kept from getting lost in the desert. 

"Don't think about him," she said out loud.

She was alone in the back of a covered truck, huddled around some spare plant cells. They didn't do a whole lot to alleviate her discomfort, but she was appreciative of the small amount of relief they did provide. She was actually pretty proud of herself. She had been strong for Milly. She hadn't cried at all since she left Vash's room. He didn't deserve it!

He didn't even say goodbye.

She took a deep breath, calming herself, not wanting to ruin her no-sob record right after she'd just congratulated herself. It was true that he had not say goodbye, but that was okay. She really would miss him. It was okay to admit that! But she needed to get some perspective, she told herself. He had been trying to get her off his trail since day one! He should be happy. And really, this was exactly the kind of relationship that she didn't need! Mature, responsible people couldn't function like this! Independent plant, huh? **HA!** Vash was clearly as codependent as they come, and she just didn't have the time or the patience necessary to take care of him! It was simple really! If she wanted that kind of responsibility, she could get a dog. They didn't drag you through bars and gunfights and dirty hotels that rented out by the hour and they didn't make you watch as they flirted with other women and they didn't get so drunk you had to plead with the bartender to help you carry them to their room! And if they ran away, they usually came back! And she didn't like pets anyway. She really wasn't good with animals at all. They were so needy, so unlike her. They always wanted your approval and they were always finding ways to plant their cold wet noses on your warm skin. They loved you, whether you fed them or not. They were loyal and didn't have any reason or logic to back it up at all.

She realized that the first order of business upon returning to December was to buy a puppy.

If he'd asked her to, she would have stayed. She knew without a doubt that that was the honest truth. The merest hint of a request would have been all it took, but he didn't say anything. He just let her leave.

She didn't know if she could ever forgive him for that.

He clearly didn't see her as a potential girlfriend or anything. God, could Vash the Stampede even have a girlfriend? She had to keep reminding herself that he was THE Vash the Stampede. People like him didn't have girlfriends. He was a womanizer, remember? He broke hearts on a regular basis. For fun! There had to be some truth to the rumor. She should have been glad that the majority of her heart was still intact. She should have been glad…but she wasn't. It was so stupid, but she really felt something with him, something that was not ordinary, something she'd never get over. That stupid idiot. Had he known it was there? Had he felt it?

She sighed, realizing it was all moot at this point. Even if he did, it was not like he'd ever come after her to see if she returned the feelings. His specialty was running _away_ from her.

But she knew despite herself that if he had taken the chance, just asked her to wait even for a moment, it could have been _great_.

She needed to stop dwelling on this. If what Doc had said was true, she had a lot of life ahead of her and she needed to be living it to its fullest. Waste not, want not, she told herself.

She looked around. She was by herself. She hated traveling by herself. This was the first time she'd been all alone in the Outer. What was she going to do when she got back into town? What would her options be? Would she be admonished for getting personally involved in a case? Would anybody really be able to hold it against her? Would she even _want_ to work there anymore? Lots of questions swirled through her mind.

There were a few things she did know, however. She was going to get to the next town and she was going to purchase a bus ticket that went straight to December and she was going to remember how to live her own life.

The truck jolted and then came to a sudden stop. She heard screaming and gunfire and she reached for her derringers, but before she could react, her pink suitcase got loose and fell on her head, ending any connection to consciousness that she previously enjoyed.

* * *

A/N: Hey guys. Just a public service announcement: Writing angst to Interpol equals real funk in real life. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter because I didn't have my normal fun torturing Vash. BUT…I would like to take a moment to say this: 

MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Also, THANKS FOR STICKING WITH THIS STORY! This thing has gotten almost 100 reviews!!! HOLY CRAP! I'm about to have a Sally Fields moment! And if you're old enough/pop-culture-aware enough to know what I'm talking about, then you get 39487393 COOKIES!!!

Mitai, Aine, Sugar Pill, Alaena, Chibi, Igbogal, and everybody else who reviewed, you get 27379472947293 cookies to split amongst yourselves!!! Also, if you leave an email address, I will reply. I LOVE REPLYING TO REVIEWS!!!

And Mitai gets 746452 cookies for trademarking everything.

Also, Erin Sasaki, you are correct! And you're the only person who commented on that, too. You get 43883835 cookies and you don't have to share.

Now I feel like a jerk because all of you will need to clear your caches soon. SO I TAKE THE COOKIES BACK AND REPLACE THEM WITH IMAGINARY DONUTS!

**_SO HYPER!!!_**

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	18. chapter 18

Milly watched Knives huddle the farthest corner of the living room, squished between the couch and the wall, as far as he could possibly get from Vash. Knives had started out in his own room, but two walls and a bathroom weren't enough of a barrier between the twins. He must have been in serious pain to be displaying signs of discomfort so readily in front of her.

He was cradling his head and looked absolutely miserable. He looked so defenseless, so disenfranchised. He needed a break. They both did. They'd been listening to Vash's wails for hours. Milly was really glad there was nothing to drink around because if there had been, she was pretty sure she wouldn't be setting a good example for anyone else.

Knives watched as she walked over to the intercom button and pressed in the code for Doc's lab. He couldn't pay attention to the conversation, though. It felt like Vash was trying to suck him in, trying to use him to shore up his emotional hemorrhaging, and Knives just couldn't do it. He didn't have anything to give. The belief that had pulled him through since he was a child was gone. He wasn't protecting Vash. He wasn't helping Vash. He was hurting Vash. He could now see what his brother had been feeling all that time. He had taken everything Vash cared about and destroyed it again, and again, and again. And the worst part of it all was that Vash felt solely responsible for all the things that had happened to him.

Vash thought it was all his fault.

That pain that Knives had felt, that total, empty, lost feeling; he couldn't get away from it. He was trapped in it. He was trapped in his brother's anguish. At least Vash had the small belief that humans were generally good to cling to. Knives was stripped of everything: his justification, his power, his very identity was completely shattered.

"Come on," he heard a voice next to him say. It was that Milly person. She hadn't left yet. She held her hand out. "It's time for a break."

He found it painfully easy to admit to himself that he was glad she was still there.

He stared dumbly at her for several moments. He finally rose to his feet on his own. "Are we…going somewhere?" he asked, his voice much softer than he expected it to be. He looked in the direction of Vash's room. When was he going to stop screaming?

"He'll be okay here. Doc is going to come and check on him." She looked in Vash's direction as well. "I think he wants to be alone, anyway."

Knives sighed, secretly anticipating escape from all this pain. "I can't leave the room."

Milly smiled. "I've got it taken care of! Just trust me and come on." She walked to the door and waited for him to follow.

He was ready for a trap. He was sure that as soon as he left the room, he was going to be rendered helpless and a horde of angry humans was going to attack him. But he had to get away from his brother and all this pain. As he cautiously stepped through the threshold, however, he found that his arms still maintained functionality. The only person in the corridor was Milly and she didn't look like she was going to hurt him.

But it could still be a trap.

He followed her, despite his paranoia. The farther he got from Vash, the less he felt. They walked for a long time, and the longer he walked, the more numb he became, but he found no solace. Before, he pushed out all feeling and it was okay because he had a shining light to follow, a belief to keep him going. He had been doing everything for Vash. The humans had to die so he and Vash could be happy. Even Rem…he'd sacrified Rem for Vash. He'd given Vash everything he could.

Now, there was nothing. He was nothing. There was no point in going on, really. Was everything he'd done in his life based on a mistake? He couldn't protect his own brother. Would Vash hate him? Had he killed Rem for nothing?

He was brought back to the present by an excited voice. "Stay here." He looked up to see Milly smiling at him and gesturing with her hands like she was pushing air down. He saw a series of booths and a counter with what looked like…guns. Lots and lots of guns.

This…really _was_ a trap.

"You sure you know what you're doing, Miss Milly?" the man behind the counter asked. He pushed a box of bullets towards her. They were standing in the make-shift shooting gallery on the ship. It had recently opened and Milly only knew about it because she followed Meryl down here one time.

Milly personally loaded the magazines of both the pistols she'd checked out. "Of course I know what I'm doing. Have a little faith!" She finished with the magazines, loaded them into the pistols, and grabbed some ear plugs. She knew that whenever she needed to blow off some steam, the firing range was the place to do it, and it might make Knives feel a little more in control. Guns had a way of making her feel powerful, at least, and Knives looked like he needed to feel a little bit of that. She knew this was a big step, a huge step really, and just hoped that her instincts were correct.

She turned around and saw that Knives was still in the exact place she'd left him, but he was giving her the strangest look. She walked a little closer and then motioned for him to follow her. He followed her despite himself. It didn't feel okay to trust her, but he certainly didn't trust any of the other humans more, and he suddenly wanted to get his hands on one of those guns.

She walked to the last booth and put all her equipment on the counter in front of her. She handed Knives a pair of ear plugs and happily stuffed hers in her ears as she watched him do the same. She smiled at Knives as he finished putting the ear plugs in and handed him one of the pistols, handle first. He took the gun and felt its weight in his hand. He saw her watching him. She hadn't picked up her gun yet. Was this all part of the trap?

"Can…I have that one?" he asked.

Milly looked at him questioningly, but took the gun back from him and replaced it with hers.

He felt it in his hand…it felt the same: the same weight, the same power, the same caliber. Right now, it was the only power he had, and it had been a mistake for her to give it to him. It wasn't a very high caliber pistol, but it would work just the same. At some point his eyes had begun to water because he realized he couldn't see her as clearly anymore. No matter. He pointed the gun at her and before she could react, he squeezed off two rounds into her chest. He immediately closed his eyes, said an apology that he hoped would get to Vash, put the gun to his head, and pulled the trigger.

* * *

Vash sensed the two of them leave the room and he felt immense sadness and incredible relief at the same time. His cries of anguish diminished into body-racking sobs. 

"The bed looks nice… So…what are you doing on the floor?" a voice asked him. Vash stopped crying. He pulled the covers away from his face slowly. Vash looked around and saw Wolfwood sitting on the floor, propping himself up casually against the wall. Wolfwood looked so real. He was really losing it this time. The dead priest looked around the room before his eyes settled on Vash's. He jumped at the sight, his sunglasses nearly falling off of his face. "YIKES!! What happened to you?"

Vash ducked back under the covers. "Leave me alone."

"Umm…You are alone."

Vash's sobs resumed.

"Aw, come on. You know I didn't mean it like that." Wolfwood looked around a little nervously. Anything that took more than a 'buck up' and a slap on the back was outside his scope of support. Wasn't part of the reason women were so amazing because they were made specifically for situations like these? "Isn't somebody supposed to be watching you? Um…Where's short stuff?"

He gasped air in between sobs. "Gone." He kept crying.

Wolfwood raised his eyebrows and let out a silent "Oh…" He listened to Vash cry for a while. He got up and looked around the place. "Then, you're really here by…yourself?"

He saw the man-shaped blanket nod vigorously as it continued to emit sad crying noises.

Wolfwood cased the entire apartment, suddenly very pissed. "Well, where the hell is everybody?" he almost shouted. He started muttering to himself. "What kind of cretins would leave a poor guy like this all by himself?" He absent-mindedly patted down his pockets for a cigarette he wasn't going to find. He realized what he was doing and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He would have laughed at his own personal hell if Vash had been in a better mood. He ended up back in Vash's room.

"I sent them away… I don't want them to die… I don't want them to be here." Vash cried throughout. "I just don't want to hurt anymore."

Wolfwood swallowed. He couldn't believe he was going to ask Vash this…in his emotional state, no less. "Are…the girls…alright?" They couldn't be dead -- Vash would have kicked his ass or crushed his ribs by now.

Vash stopped crying and momentarily lapsed into wails. "Milly's fine… I told Meryl to leave…and she finally listened." He switched back to sobs. "It was the right thing for her to do. Nothing good has ever come to anybody who has associated with me. I can't blame her for thinking of her--GAH!!" he screamed as Wolfwood backhanded the blanketed mass somewhere within the vicinity of Vash's head. Vash's face popped out from under the covers. He looked pathetically angry. "What the hell was that for?" he sniffled.

Wolfwood shook his head in aggravation. "What the HELL did I tell you about this martyr bullshit? When are you going to listen to me, Spikey?" He tried to reign in his anger. "Come on, now get a grip." He watched as Vash tried to plaster some fake emotion over his face. Wolfwood felt instantly regretful. It made him think of the first time he met Vash. "That's…that's not what I meant." Wolfwood sat on the floor in front of Vash. "I know…" God, where was he going with this? "I know you feel like shit right now." Vash's expression began to slip back into one of complete despair. "But…it's okay, Spikey. I mean, you've been dealt a shitty hand, my friend, a shitty hand. And other people…they've…"

Vash didn't know quite what Wolfwood was trying to get at, but he was listening to him. He didn't realize that his breathing was beginning to calm.

"God damn it," he said as he realized he was starting to ramble. "Someone already said this better... It's been a while, so forgive me if I'm a little rusty."

He took a deep breath. It really had been years.

"Blessed..." he started cautiously, "are the poor in spirit…for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

He closed his eyes. "Blessed are the meek…for they shall possess the land."

He didn't want to look at Vash. "Blessed are they who mourn…for they shall be comforted." They were coming back to him more easily now.

How many times had he thrown these words back in his teachers' faces?

He always felt bad for never telling Vash this. "Blessed are they that hunger and thirst after justice…for they shall have their fill." He had watched Vash fight for other people, but he was unable to offer the words that might comfort his aching heart.

But back then, when he was alive, he was just all out of faith. Vash was the one who gave it back to him. Watching him, the way he worked, the way he tried to save everybody, the way he always tried to make the right decision…it made Wolfwood want to be a better man. It was Vash's actions, not any prayer, any confession, any words, that gave him back his faith. "Blessed are the merciful…for they shall obtain mercy."

_Jeez_, he thought to himself. How many times had he condemned himself with these very words?

If he said it, he wanted Vash to be able to believe in it, free of any of the skepticism he felt. "Blessed are the clean of heart…for they…for they shall see God." He wanted Vash to know it as truth.

He looked up, and saw that he had Vash's undivided attention. He took his sunglasses off. Vash really was hurting, but he was hoping, too. He just needed some hope, and that was the only kind of comfort Wolfwood had to offer. "Blessed are…the peacemakers…for they shall be called the children of God." A child of God…it was funny how he always felt something divine in Vash. Maybe this was why.

And if Vash ever needed to hear this, it was now. "Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." _It's all yours, Spikey, just don't give up._

Vash didn't say anything. He rubbed his sad, tired eyes.

"I know that in some ways, they're just words…they're ancient words…and I'm not asking you to believe in anything. I just wanted you to hear them. I wanted you to know…that other people suffer, and other people hurt, and they need help to deal with it." He put his hand on Vash's shoulder. Vash looked up at him. He let Vash see straight into his heart. "You don't have to do everything yourself." He watched Vash for a moment. "It's okay to ask for help."

Vash sniffled a bit. "Thanks…" Either he had finally lost it, or Wolfwood was starting to make sense. "Thanks for coming around."

Wolfwood smiled and patted Vash on the shoulder. Good…he wasn't crying anymore. This was a perfect time to change the subject. "So…did short stuff give you the 'Insurance Girl' special?"

Vash cocked his eyebrow. "The _what_?"

"Nevermind…you'd know it if it happened." Wolfwood leaned against the bed and flashed a dangerous grin. "You know I'm not the type to kiss and tell, but that Milly, she's amazing…knows exactly what to do to make you feel like a man…" He trailed off. "But…it figures Meryl wouldn't come around…way too uptight for her own good…"

Vash blushed and sputtered, "What in god's name are you talking about?"

Wolfwood looked at him a little confused. "You mean…she never…" Maybe he'd read the situation all wrong. "She never tried anything with you?"

Vash sat there with an I-have-cooties-and-no-girl-in-her-right-mind-would-be-interested-in-me look on his face and just shook his head no. "Meryl?" he squeaked, a quiver in his chin. "Did you not hear me? Meryl's gone. She left me."

"You know," he said slowly, "you sound like a jilted lover." Vash tried to speak, but the sounds coming out of his mouth could not be classified as English. "Anyway, I'm sure she'd make herself easy to find if you wanted to look." Wolfwood eyeballed him. He leaned in closer. "She really never tried anything? She didn't ever, I don't know, sneak into your room when you were sad and…well…try to make you, you know…_feel_ better?" He winked. He'd always pegged Meryl as a woman who knew what she wanted (when she was ready to admit it to herself), and unless he had gotten his wires hopelessly crossed, she definitely wanted Vash.

Vash couldn't possibly blush any more. What was this terrorist priest thinking?! "All…all she ever did was bandage my wounds. And…she made me soup. And…she would watch me and make sure I stayed in bed." He had a faraway look in his eyes. "That was all she did. And that…was just what I needed."

Huh…well, maybe he had been wrong. "Hell Spikey, if that's what you're missing, I can do that." He thought a minute. "I mean, I can only make udon, and you don't have any bullet holes in you at the moment, but I can definitely hang out."

The blood in Vash's blushed cheeks began to drain and return from whence it came. "Really?" There was an odd little tremble in Vash's voice, like he was used to bracing himself for rejection.

"Yeah. No problem." God, was it really this easy? "Just get into bed."

Vash gave him a concerned look. He felt a little stupid for asking Wolfwood to stay. "You're sure?"

"I said it was no problem. Get in bed and go to sleep. I'll be here."

Vash's eyes were filled with an inordinate amount of gratitude. "Thanks," he said simply. He grabbed the blankets that were wrapped around him and stumbled into bed.

He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Wolfwood got up and made himself comfortable against the wall. He smiled as he watched Vash sleep. _You're hopeless_, he thought to himself.

* * *

Knives was aware of himself. 

Something had gone wrong.

He felt a monumental pain at his temple, but when he tried to touch it, he couldn't move his arm.

He couldn't move his other arm, either.

It _had_ been a trap.

He felt a weight he hadn't realized was there lifted off of his head and replaced with a cool, soft, soothing object. He realized he was in a bed. He felt that Vash was physically close, but he was no longer trapped in a telepathic connection he couldn't sever.

Now he was just trapped with his own mind.

He slowly opened his eyes and adjusted to the dim light in the room. His vision was a little blurry, but with successive blinks, it began to clear up.

That woman was in the room with him. She had her hair pulled back in a pony tail. From this angle, she didn't look anything like Rem. He'd been fooling himself the whole time, hoping to find something he would never find again.

He tried to sit up, but his movement caught her attention and she quickly placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down gently. "Don't move, okay?" she said quietly. "You gave yourself a concussion." When she was satisfied that he wasn't going to move again, she sat back in her chair. "Doc says you're practically healed now, but you're probably going to have a pretty bad headache for a while."

He was suddenly confused. "How am I still alive?"

He saw her smile. "I loaded the guns with rubber bullets." She absentmindedly rubbed her chest. "They're not quite as lethal, but just as fun to shoot." She looked away. "It's a dirty trick I picked up from Mr. Vash the Stampede."

"This was a setup. You didn't trust me."

Now she looked confused. "Yes…I did. I trusted you to be yourself, but I was also giving you a chance to prove me wrong."

Too much talking, not enough information. "How long have I been unconscious?" he asked.

Milly thought. "About a day and a half."

A day and a half…he'd been at their mercy for roughly 36 hours, and Vash hadn't kept his promise. Vash hadn't protected him. He'd just left him here by himself. He'd been by himself with this…this imposter.

Milly watched him as he fought back tears unsuccessfully. She was shocked at how much he suddenly looked like Vash.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He couldn't believe he was giving this imposter the privilege of seeing his pain. He tried to lift his hands to staunch the hemorrhaging of tears from his eyes, but his arms simply would not budge. He needed to get away, to be anywhere other than where he was.

He haphazardly swung his legs out of bed and used his torso to lift himself. He suddenly felt a body pressed against his and arms pulling him close.

"It's okay. Vash is sleeping, but he's here. You need to get some rest, too."

He tried to shake her off, but he couldn't. "Get off me!!" he shouted.

Milly shook her head no. "Don't wake up your brother."

The pounding in his head wouldn't stop. He wanted to stop existing. He wanted to give up. He wanted to stop remembering Rem. He wanted this woman to go away and never come back. He wanted this stranger to leave him alone. He wanted to be alone like he deserved.

Why was she still here?

He leaned his face in the crook of her neck and bawled. She held him tightly against her. She began to trace circles on his back. "It's okay. You're safe here. Nobody is going to hurt you."

He wanted to believe it, but he couldn't. Humans were liars. They destroyed their old planet because they were too stupid to know better. They hurt each other, they hurt his sisters, they hurt his brother. He retaliated in the only way he had left.

He bared his teeth and sank them viciously into Milly's shoulder.

Milly tried not to scream, but his teeth crushed deeper and deeper into her body. She was certain he was drawing blood and she did the only thing she knew to do.

She punched him in the face.

Knives almost lost consciousness again as she pushed him off of her. Through the pain in his head, he slowly realized she had him by the collar of his shirt.

"Let me amend that," she hissed through anger and pain. "Nobody is going to hurt you AS LONG AS YOU RETURN THE FAVOR." She stared him down for a few more seconds before releasing him and letting him fall back on the bed. She got up to leave the room, clutching her shoulder. "I'm going to check up on you in a little while. Don't do anything stupid to yourself. You don't even want to know what it would do to Vash if he found out what you tried to pull yesterday. And _if_ you made me wake up your brother, so help me, YOU WILL BE SORRY!"

She exited the room, wondering at just what point she had become her mother.

* * *

The boss liked to starve them first. That was how the boss did things. No matter how much fun the new shipment from the caravan raid looked, they always had to do things his way. And he'd seen what happened when the boss didn't get his way. 

The slaver sighed, realizing that a small bit of carnal pleasure with a new body wouldn't be worth dying over. He just hoped he would get to be first in line. This little one had a temper he couldn't believe.

He threw the prisoner into the dirty cell. Tired eyes looked at him through black hair with fading consciousness.

He couldn't wait.

* * *

A/N: HELLO EVERYBODY!!! Thanks to JAYA MITAI for being so kind as to beta this chapter. Super great notes!!! 

And…I HOPE EVERYBODY LIKES THIS CHAPTER!!!

And…EVERYONE WHO REVIEWS GETS A GOLD DINOSAUR!!! (gold stars…so overdone.)


	19. chapter 19

Four stitches.

She couldn't believe it.

That's all that Doc had given her.

Apparently only Knives' canines had broken the skin. Judging by the pain at the time, she had been sure he was trying to gnaw his way to the other side of Gunsmoke _through her shoulder_. Of course, she had 32 teeth-shaped imprints and a huge purple bruise to show the world if she chose to, but her skin was, for the most part, puncture-free. Doc did not look too worried about the wound itself, but did rattle off a standard physician's lecture about the septic nature of the mouth and recommended regular application of a topical antibiotic.

Doc went in alone to reactivate Knives' arms. They had both decided that she would be able to handle Knives if he got out of hand. They would just have to observe him quite stringently. She hadn't seen him since she'd been bitten. She wasn't sure she wanted to see him. She did promise him she'd check up on him, though.

She took a deep breath and tapped the door panel cautiously. Doc was just finishing up. Knives wasn't looking at her. Knives wasn't looking at Doc. He was just sitting up in bed, staring out of the one porthole in the room. He looked so quiet and alone. She suddenly felt bad for hitting him in the head so hard. He'd probably already had a headache, too.

She just wished he hadn't been…so…bitey.

"Hi, Mr. Knives. I hope you're feeling better," she tried with a cheerful voice.

No response.

She'd just have to try again later. "Hey, Doc. Do you need any help?"

Doc shook his head no as he pushed himself off the bed. "No, my dear. I've just finished with the mechanics. They should be fit as a fiddle now." She noticed Knives didn't so much as wiggle his fingers to see if Doc was correct. "What was I…Oh yes. I'm going to go get some of that ointment I was talking to you about." He walked to the door and stopped beside her momentarily. "Would you mind watching my patient for me for a few minutes?" he said cheerfully.

Oh! She didn't want to! But…if it was helpful… "Sure thing, Doc."

He smiled at her before he left the room. When he was gone, she half expected Knives to go into a tirade on the fact that he was now more a prisoner than a patient, but he didn't. He just sat there staring out the window. She wanted to say something, but didn't know what, so she just pulled up a chair and sat down.

When he finally spoke, she nearly jumped.

His voice was thick and quiet. "If you're worried about me trying to hurt myself again, don't. You may leave."

"But Mr. Knives…I…Doc…" He was nothing like Vash. He cut straight to the point and left no ambiguities. Where Vash might act like a suicide watch was an excuse for a slumber party, Knives just called it what it was.

He breathed heavily, almost a sigh, but with no real emotion behind it. "You can stay and watch, but I won't be very interesting."

For some reason, she felt horrible. "I am sorry for hitting you so hard."

Knives did nothing. Then he scoffed. He smiled dryly. "You shouldn't be."

Mr. Knives was confusing her to no end! What did he mean by that?

A sudden noise outside the room caught her attention. Maybe Doc was back! "Hold on a sec, Mr. Knives. I'll be right back." With that, she popped up and slipped through the doorway. She was surprised to find a recently showered Vash was just making his way out of the bathroom. His back was to her. She switched her brain from Knives-mode to Vash-mode in the blink of an eye. "Hey!" she nearly shouted. "Did you sleep well?" She was so happy to see him up!

His shoulders immediately hitched together under his hoodie, like he'd been caught trying to sneak away. He slowly turned around and wiggled his fingers in salutation. "Oh, hi there!" he said in a ridiculously high voice. He seemed nervous…or embarrassed…or surprised… "I was just going to--"

Milly cut in. "You must be starving! You've been out for almost two days straight. Would you like me to fix you something?" Before she'd even finished the sentence, she was already pulling foodstuffs from their places and warming them up and laying them out on the table. She got a plate and some flatware and set that out as well. She grabbed a glass of water and put it on the table and sat down. Then she realized he was still standing. She frowned and her eyebrows knitted together. "What's…wrong?" She looked at the table. Maybe this wasn't what he wanted. "If there's something you'd rather eat, I'm sure I can find it." She added a little quiver to the last few words. That always made him give in.

She heard him sigh and she looked up just in time to see him sitting down. "Yeah, Milly, I guess I am pretty hungry." He smiled a normal smile and tucked into the closest container of food. His smile kind of made her sad. She could tell he was hurting inside, but he was still trying to cover it up. Maybe she had been wrong in demoting Meryl. Maybe sempai shouldn't have left after all…

But he could have stopped her.

That's right! He had the opportunity and he let it slip past. Mr. Vash was going to have to do this by himself this time!

She silently sighed. These twins certainly were proving to be a handful.

She watched Vash as he continued to eat. He really could put it away! He basically ate everything she put out for him. "See! You were hungry. Do you want anything else to eat?"

He shook his head no and smiled that old smile. "This was more than enough." His eyes had a saddened edge. "Really, you've already done so much…" He looked down. "You shouldn't have to worry about me." She could see he was embarrassed now for sure.

"Oh Vash, don't be silly. I'm your friend! I'm going to worry about you even when nothing is wrong," she told him with a smile. He looked up at her, and for a split second, she saw that emptiness floating in his eyes again and it scared her. His expression changed so fast, though, that she wasn't even sure that she hadn't just made it up.

He smiled at her. Vash seemed genuinely relieved. "I'm glad you can still think of me that way." He extended his arm and patted her on the shoulder.

Her injured shoulder.

She closed her eyes and tried not to wince. She really tried, but she couldn't help it. Her shoulder really hurt! Maybe with her eyes closed, he wouldn't notice…

"What's wrong, Milly?"

Dadgumit! He noticed! "Oh, I just--"

Before she could even protest, he'd gently pulled the collar of her sweater away from her neck, revealing her freshly bandaged wound. He looked at her hard. "Tell me what happened."

What was she supposed to say? She hadn't expected Vash to be awake yet. She just couldn't tell Vash what had happened…especially with him so sad and trying to be strong for her. She wondered what Knives would say. She glanced towards his room.

Vash followed her eyes to the door…Knives' door. Recognition set in. He returned his gaze to her. "Did…did he hurt you?" His jaw was clenched. He was gripping her sweater collar now. She didn't even know if he realized what he was doing.

"Vash, it's not…it's not…"

His eyes were lit with rage. He let go of her sweater. "He hurt you," he quietly admitted to himself. Before she could stop him, he'd made his way across the room and slammed his hand so hard against the door panel that a few sparks flew out. He advanced into the dark room. She could feel the anger dripping off of him. Knives was still looking out of the portal, the injured side of his face turned away from his brother.

"Knives," he seethed. "Look at me."

Knives did no such thing.

Vash lost it. "LOOK AT ME!" He shouted so loud it made Milly cringe.

Slowly, very slowly, Knives turned towards his brother.

Milly watched as Vash's posture changed completely. His broad shoulders slumped down. His knees sagged. His fists uncurled and his arms swung limply. She heard a strange whimper come from him. She took a few steps toward him. He was looking at the bruise on Knives' face. It had started right at his temple, but now, it was spreading more and more. The translucent skin below his eye was dark purple now.

"What happened?" he finally asked quietly. Knives didn't say anything. "What happened?" He sounded more desperate this time. Knives still didn't say anything. He turned to Milly. She could see the unshed tears in his worried eyes. "What happened?!" he shouted at her. She jumped.

"I…Vash…I took…" How could she tell him? She made eye contact with Knives. "We…I…"

"Milly took care of it," a clear, strong voice dictated.

Vash turned around to look at his brother. "Milly took care of it," Knives stated again, "so don't worry about it." Knives saw a war being fought in Vash's eyes. He could feel the anger and the worry and the hurt rolling off of his brother.

Vash was worried about him.

"Milly, can you leave us alone?" Knives asked flatly.

"Yes…of course," she said. She tried hitting the door panel to give them more privacy, but whatever Vash had done to it had locked it open. She almost said something, but she saw Vash walking towards his brother and knew it would be better just to make herself scarce.

Knives wondered if Vash knew his link was still wide open. With every step Vash took towards him, Vash's anger yielded to his worry. It hurt Knives to know Vash was so hurt, but in a way, it was incredibly satisfying.

And for the first time in his life, that satisfaction made Knives hate himself.

He watched as Vash slowly approached. He looked Knives over. Knives sat very still, worried that any sudden movement might scare his brother away. Vash's eyes scanned over the bruise. He balled his hand into a fist and timidly sat on the side of his twin's bed. Knives could read the questions in his eyes. What had happened? Did he really want to know?

Knives took a deep breath. His brother was so close. How long had it been since they had last been able to simply regard one another? A hundred years? Was he ready to admit to himself that they probably hadn't been this close since they were children?

He closed his eyes and found himself slowly leaning forward. Finally, his forehead rested lightly against Vash's shoulder. He could feel Vash's slightly damp hair as it stuck to his cheek. He stayed as still as he possibly could. He didn't want to force himself on Vash. He didn't want to make Vash run away. He just wanted to be with his brother.

Vash sat motionlessly, then slowly copied his brother's posture. He brought an arm around and loosely embraced Knives. Knives felt something well up inside of him that he hadn't felt since he and Vash had been little boys.

Joy. Acceptance. Peace.

He almost started to cry.

Vash put his other arm around his brother and held him closer. Knives stayed in the same position. He was afraid that if he moved, his brother would go away. He realized Vash was whispering to him.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to leave you alone. I'm so, so sorry. Please believe me, Knives." The worry in his brother was turning into uncontrollable guilt.

Vash's words broke Knives' heart. Knives finally returned his brother's embrace. He held Vash close, a little too tightly with his prosthetics. He could feel Vash's metal implants pushing into his body. The metal parts that used to make him so angry at the humans now made him feel guilt and shame. The pain that Vash had experienced at the hands of the humans was _nothing_ compared to what he dragged his own brother through. He had been so stupid to think he was protecting Vash. All this time, he'd been trying to protect himself. He couldn't go on hurting his brother any more.

"I'm going to say this once," he said in a clear voice. He took a deep breath. "Never apologize to me again."

Vash tried to pull away, tried to look Knives in the face, but Knives continued to lean against his brother. He loosened his hold on Vash a little, but he kept his head down on Vash's shoulder. Suddenly, Vash redoubled the strength of his embrace and Knives found himself pressed flat against his crying brother. He was shocked for a few moments. Finally, Knives felt relief wash over him and he couldn't help but smile.

"Don't be such a crybaby," he gently chided his brother.

"I'm so-- I mean…" Vash was at a total loss for words.

Knives held on tight. He couldn't think of anything to say, either.

The two brothers finally pulled away from each other, both a little embarrassed to be so open after all this time.

They stayed like that for a good while, but not as long as either one of them had hoped. A glass shattering in the other room startled them out of the tender moment. Vash whipped his head around and almost got up to see what was the matter, but Doc appeared in the doorway before he had a chance to move.

He didn't look happy.

"What's wrong?" Vash asked quickly.

Before Doc could answer, a positively distressed Milly popped in behind him. Knives wondered to himself why they all found the need to congregate in _his_ room.

Doc hesitated uncharacteristically. Knives noticed.

"I just received a dispatch from Max in New Oregon." Another uncharacteristic pause. "The caravan has not arrived on schedule. A search party was sent out. It seems…the caravan was raided…by slavers. Supplies were stolen." He paused again. "Not everyone could be…accounted for."

_Hmm…_ Knives thought to himself. _Wasn't that the mode of transportation that small woman had decided on? To leave his brother? Oh well. One less human was nothing to worry abo-- Oh god. Meryl._

Unadulterated fear.

Chaotic panic.

Paralyzing anxiety.

Knives started to sweat. _These were not his thoughts._ Why was he feeling this? He looked over at Vash, expecting him to be a complete wreck, but was shocked to see him sitting exactly the same way he had been. The only difference was that his jaw had clenched tight and a vein was visibly throbbing in his neck.

Was Vash…really capable of masking these terrifyingly strong emotions?

Knives couldn't do it. He tried not to hyperventilate. If he'd been able to feel anything besides what his brother was pumping into him, he probably would have been insanely jealous of that small human at this point. All areas of rational thought in his mind, however, had been short-circuited, and Vash had overridden any kind of emotional response Knives would normally have to this situation.

Knives had only felt this kind of fear from his brother one time, but the magnitude hadn't been nearly as great. It might have been because it was conducted through another channel. The last transmission Legato sent him…it was almost the same.

He was being brainwashed. He could feel it. And Vash didn't even know he was doing it. He was feeling the strangest sense of empathy for the small woman, the same woman who had chopped his arms off and stolen his strength, the same woman he had tried to get rid of for good just a few days ago. If Vash didn't get away from him soon, Knives feared he'd feel like this about that little spider for the rest of eternity.

He had to get away from Vash.

"What are we going to do?" Knives barely heard Milly ask.

Vash sat silently for a few moments. He shook his head. "I have to stay here with my brother."

What!? Under any other circumstance, Knives would have been pleased as punch to hear a response like that come from his brother, but not now. Vash was completely incapable of keeping his emotions to himself at this point, and Knives absolutely could not shield himself from his brother's mind. It was all Knives could do to keep control of his body's reaction to these emotions. Knives tried to speak, but he found it nearly impossible to try to slow down his breaths to prevent losing consciousness and talk at the same time. He tried to send a mental transmission, but Vash wasn't letting him get a thought in edgewise.

Somehow, Milly understood. "Don't worry, Vash. Meryl is strong."

Vash looked at her, seemingly relieved at what Milly had told him, but Knives knew better. The panic in his brother spiked, which nearly caused Knives to pass out. He had to do something or Vash would mentally destroy him.

"Yes, she is very strong…isn't she." Knives managed to grind out slowly. "They'll…probably have to take turns…breaking her." He was immediately blasted with a wave of panic so intense that it almost made him faint.

Suddenly, he realized three sets of eyes were glaring at him in disbelief.

He felt like hell. He probably looked even worse. He didn't care. He had to get Vash away from him.

Vash stared at Knives, a little bit of the monumental panic finally seeping out through his eyes. He sputtered. "How could…how could you…say…?"

Knives ground his teeth together and spoke frankly. "I know…how humans can be…to their own."

Vash's eyes hardened. Knives felt righteous anger burn inside him. Then all that panic and fear suddenly rotated ninety degrees and Knives felt a huge swell of single-minded determination surround him. He sat straight in bed and felt his own chest puff up. If Milly hadn't been pinning him with the strangest look, Knives would have found it impossible not to jump up and accompany his brother to rescue that woman.

Luckily for Knives, at that moment Vash leaped up with inhuman speed and made a beeline to his room. The distance was a salve to his mind. He heard his brother thrash around a bit and emerge a few moments later with his black bag slung over his shoulder.

"Doc," he stated evenly, "I'm going to need to borrow a jeep." He walked over to Milly. He spoke to her with considerably more gentleness. "Hey, Big Girl, can you do me a favor?"

She looked at him with questions evident in her eyes. He didn't usually call her that. "Yes, of course."

He watched Vash lean in and whisper something to Milly. She nodded her head vigorously and gave him a quick bear hug.

Vash looked at Knives one more time, apology swimming in his expression.

"Go!" Knives shouted.

Knives sighed as he felt his brother finally exit the room. He closed his eyes, enjoying the vacuum in his brain that Vash's sudden retreat had left behind. He didn't see Milly smiling at him, but even if he had, he wouldn't care.

* * *

Doc and Vash made their way towards the hangar. Doc was surprised at how well Vash was taking the news about this unfortunate turn of events. After witnessing Vash's episode in the hallway a few days ago, he was certain the man had feelings for the young lady. But the way he was acting now, it almost seemed as if Vash were just going through the motions, merely obligated to help.

Maybe Vash had been so exhausted before that he simply couldn't control his emotions at all… Maybe he displayed emotions he didn't even feel. Sleep deprivation did effect emotional responses to stimuli.

Or maybe he was just really good at covering up his feelings when he'd had enough sleep.

"Vash, I want you to be careful."

The gunman seemed calm, but distracted. "I've dealt with worse than slavers."

Doc sighed. "That's not what I mean. There have been a lot of changes in New Oregon since you were last there."

"Oh yeah?" Vash didn't really seem to be paying attention at all.

"Yes, Vash. Listen to me. Remember the feud between the Polos and the Fries?"

Vash looked at him, finally displaying some interest in the subject. "You mean the two families fighting over that excavated plant?"

Doc nodded as they continued to walk. "Yes, those families."

"Did they ever stop fighting?" Vash asked hopefully.

Doc shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not." He saw Vash frown. How could such a tender heart still exist in this harsh reality? "The federal government found out about the plant and took over. _That's _why you need to be careful. The place is crawling with federal marshals."

Vash looked confused. "If there are so many agents around, then what about the slavers? Why are they in these parts? They've got to be pretty organized to be able to take down a caravan without tipping the authorities off."

"When the Polos and the Fries were thrown out of power, it left a vacuum. The slavers simply moved in." Doc's pager went off. He unclipped it and hit a few buttons, then clipped it back to his belt.

Vash's expression changed from confusion to anger. "Well, if there are so many agents around, why aren't they going after the slavers?" It seemed logical enough.

Doc sighed. "Not enough infrastructure is the official excuse. In reality, the government probably wants to secure the plant and monitor its functionality before they do anything else in the area. We are, pretty much, the edge of civilization out here."

Vash would have asked more questions, but they'd reached their destination. Vash walked straight to the first jeep he saw and threw his bag into the back seat. He was in mid leap over the driver's side door when Doc stopped him.

"You can't take that one."

Vash looked at him questioningly. "Why not?"

Doc pointed at a different vehicle. "You have to take that one." It was one of the few jeeps with diesel engines that had not been retrofitted for plant cells. He didn't want Vash tempted to use his powers to refuel. It would only hurt him in the long run.

One of the young doctors entered the hangar and caught Doc's attention. Doc walked over to the man and relieved him of his burden. He thanked the young man and turned towards Vash again.

Vash was checking out the old car. He threw his stuff in the back of _that_ jeep and leaped over the driver's side door. He flipped the sun visors. A set of keys fell into his lap. He inserted the keys into the ignition and was about to start the engine when Doc spoke up.

"Don't you think you should take some extra fuel with you? Just in case?" These old jeeps had pretty large tanks. One tank would probably just be enough to get Vash into town, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.

Seemingly unperturbed, Vash hopped out of the driver's seat and gave Doc a goofy smile. "That would probably be a good idea." Vash walked around the vehicles to the fuel storage area and grabbed a couple of gallons of gas. They were _real_ gallons, not the dallons the merchants tried to pass of as the same size. He put them in the back seat. He turned to Doc and clapped his hands together. "Well, I guess that's all!" He turned to get back into the vehicle once again, but Doc stopped him.

"That's not quite all, Vash." Doc looked at the bag in his hands. He thrust his hand in and pulled out a leather belt. "You might need this." He waited for Vash to take it. Doc knew Vash hated to wear a gun outside his clothes, but that big roomy jacket was gone and he needed some sort of protection. Who knew…maybe seeing a gun on his person would dissuade ruffians from starting anything in the first place. After Vash had the belt around his hips and the holster strapped around his thigh, Doc handed him the six-shooter.

Suddenly, the goofy façade fell away and the gunman lurking in Vash's depths surfaced. He expertly checked out the gun, opened the cylinder, spun it, and snapped it shut. He holstered the gun with maximum efficiency. The familiarity Vash showed with the gun got to Doc, reminded him of how Vash had fought to survive for so long.

Vash looked at him expectantly. Doc cleared his throat. "I really want you to be careful out there. Don't lose your head and try not to be too conspicuous. You might not have a bounty on your head anymore, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't watch out, especially with all the marshals around."

"Anything else?" Vash grinned.

"One more thing." Doc reached into the bottom of the bag and pulled out an old bomber jacket. "I want you…to have this." He handed it to Vash. "I promised myself I'd give it to you the next time I saw you. It's cold at night. You need something more than that sweatshirt." He hesitated while Vash pulled his hoodie off and shrugged the jacket on. "It's far too big for me. It's from earth, too," he offered. Vash's eyes widened at that. "My grandfather brought it with him." He took a deep breath. "I want you to have it. I think of you…as part of my family, Vash. Almost like a son. I hope that isn't…insulting."

Vash shook his head. "Of course not. Of course not." The jacket fit great. "Thank you so much."

Doc smiled. "Well, I kind of feel guilty for not having a coat ready for you. Just remember this one isn't bullet proof."

Vash smiled. "Okay. Anything else, or can I go save the day?" he asked in a roguish voice.

Doc slapped him on the arm and gave him a squeeze. "Get out of here."

Finally, Vash successfully leaped into the jeep and gunned the engine.

* * *

A sand lizard looked down from his rock on his cliff at a tiny jeep on the horizon. The plume of sand behind the vehicle seemed to indicate great speed, but the desert was so wide that any forward motion was barely detectable. From such a distance, the jeep moved like a sluggish reptile on a cold day.

And the man in the jeep felt the same way.

Vash had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. Beads of sweat dripped down his face. His foot had the accelerator flattened to the floorboard. He looked at the gear shifter and cursed the fact that the transmission didn't go to sixth. He couldn't go fast enough.

He had to go faster. He had to go faster. He had to go faster.

The dashboard already had two dents in it where Vash had punched it in frustration. Of all the times for Doc to need a heart-to-heart, why now…WHEN MERYL WAS IN DANGER?! It was almost unbearable to idly stand by, knowing… He let out a cry of panic. What if he'd already wasted too much time? That dispatch was already probably a day and a half old.

And this damned piece of junk wasn't going fast enough!

He'd seen slaver victims before. It was disgusting that anybody could treat people like that. The first time he'd come across a slaver encampment, he had a hard time not agreeing with his brother. Even the fortunate ones that didn't make it to the auction block were in bad shape. Young girls and boys, their eyes hollow, their cheeks sunken, old rags clinging to them, barely able to stretch the strips of dirty fabric to cover themselves…kidnapped, beaten, starved, abused, used…

Raped.

They were left scarred, untrusting, empty…broken.

What if he found Meryl like that?

What if they did something to her? What if they'd already done something to Meryl? She had that fiery temper and that iron will. Of course she'd be noticed. Of course she'd be targeted.

What if they forced her…

He let out another frustrated scream. He couldn't even finish the thought. This couldn't happen to Meryl. Not her. Not his insurance girl.

He was already close to breaking the steering wheel in half, and he really needed that if he had any intentions of getting to her in time. Even though nobody else was around, he needed to stay in control of his emotions. For Meryl.

If he drove straight there, he would be there in 5 hours.

* * *

A/N: HEY EVERYBODY!!! thanks for all the awesome reviews on the last chapter!! everybody gets imaginary funnel cakes!!!

THANKS TO MITAI for beta'ing again!!!

hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner. now...review:)


	20. chapter 20

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!! WOO HOO! I HAVE SURVIVED ANOTHER YEAR! so here's my birthday present to EVERYBODY!

If you've forgotten...

- knives has fake arms.  
- he is in the care of one milly stungun thompson.  
- meryl is missing.  
- vash is freaking.

* * *

The generators that ran off of plant cells had their own kind of resonance. It wasn't the vibrant song of the plants in their bulbs. The energy was siphoned off, so no living tissue existed inside the battery cells. From this distance, it was a quiet buzz, like the magnetic bias of an audio cassette...just a low hiss that was hard to detect against the background noise of the planet. 

Vash could sense it just the same.

Knives was right when he said humans were absolutely dependent on their siblings, and normally, Vash would have sympathized…but right now, he was ecstatic. There were only two sources of plant energy close by. One source was New Oregon, about an hour straight ahead. Another pulled at him from the right, straight into the desert. It was a plant generator…a pretty big one.

On instinct, he turned abruptly and continued to drive at top speed.

He had been trying for hours to keep a clear mind, to keep from thinking about what could be happening to Meryl, but he just couldn't seem to stop himself. He'd seen so much death and destruction that it was frighteningly easy for him to imagine the same terrible things happening to her. He could see her screaming out for his help while _they_ hurt her. Every scream he imagined made him hate himself a little more.

He'd told her to leave because he thought it would be safer for her! He thought it would be better if she were back in December. He hadn't even been concerned with random violence perpetrated by humans upon other humans. He'd been so wrapped up in his own pain, he hadn't even seen this possibility. He'd been so stupid. At least if she were around, he would have been able to keep an eye on her…

But Knives had almost killed her under his watch. Oh, and while Vash was unconscious and unable to protect her, she'd been forced to chop off Knives' arms to protect _him_. And then, of course, Vash himself had caught her up in his energy blast and altered her into something not entirely human.

God, he was just too useless for words. And he'd done everything in his power to push her away, too. He'd told her to leave. He hadn't even said goodbye. Part of the reason was because he was afraid if he said anything, he would have fallen apart right in front of her. Another part of him, though, hoped that it would hurt her enough that she'd never come looking for his sorry hide again.

Why had he done that? What kind of man was he? What kind of foolish idiot would hurt someone on purpose? He made himself sick. She had every right to despise him. She really wasn't safe with him at all.

But right now, he figured she was better off with him than with slavers. All he wanted to do was find her, hold her, and apologize over and over and over again.

Maybe she was still okay. Maybe _they_ hadn't already snipped her Achilles tendons so she couldn't run away. Maybe _they_ hadn't already beaten her black and blue. Maybe _they_ hadn't bound her with barbed wire, hadn't tortured her. Maybe _they_ hadn't torn off her clothes, hadn't humiliated her, hadn't raped her. Repeatedly. He couldn't get Knives' words out of his head.

He realized from the pain in his throat that he was screaming again.

How could anybody hurt her? She was such a good person…a _truly_ good person. She cared even when she tried to deny it. She was fair. She believed in equality. Through her very actions, she tried to make the world a better place.

If anything happened to her, he was going to have a very hard time trying to convince himself that Knives didn't have a point. Rem hadn't sacrificed her life so that people could do this to each other. He didn't even know if he could keep his anger in check long enough to get her and get out. He was afraid of what he might do to _them_, the shadowy bad guys who were hurting his insurance girl inside his head.

All this time, he'd been so blind. He'd always thought he would be the cause of any harm that would come to her. The Gung-Ho-Guns, the angry mobs, his brother, himself… These were the usual suspects in his head. He hadn't thought for a second she could be hurt like this. It was one thing for humans to hurt him. He could handle it. He'd done horrible things. It was his arm that destroyed July. He deserved the hatred he experienced. But Meryl? What had she ever done to deserve anything like this?

This was just _not_ possible.

He drove and he drove and he drove until he saw an adobe compound appear out of the sand. From this distance, he could make out several vehicles at one end of the compound. He drove toward the opposite end, past a loading dock. He didn't see the generators, but he knew they were close...probably on the other side of the building.

This had to be the place.

As he approached the rear of the building, he sensed danger. He slammed on the brakes, but not fast enough. The passenger-side front wheel of the jeep tagged a landmine and the resulting blast sent Vash and the remnants of the vehicle careening into a wall. He braced himself, but on impact, Vash's head slammed against the steering wheel. As the dust settled around him, he shook his dizzy head. Small chunks of adobe were falling on him.The front end of the jeep was thoroughly lodged in the building. Vash realized he was hearing gunfire.

It didn't sound too far off.

Vash kicked the shattered windshield out and climbed over the jeep and into the building. He pulled his weapon from its holster and slinked inside the compound. The gunman cocked the hammer back. The new gun felt like a stranger in his hand. He found himself in an unlocked cell. Perfect. He was exactly where he wanted to be. He tried to ignore his nerves as he glanced out of the cell. The smell of the place wasn't helping at all: old sweat, blood, and waste. He breathed through his mouth and tried to stay focused.

Considering he'd made a horrible racket upon entry, he was amazed to see no slavers rushing towards him. The gunfire continued to echo through the bare halls. Maybe there was something more interesting happening in the front of the compound. It didn't really matter to him. All he wanted to do was find Meryl and get the hell out of there.

He passed a few empty cells before encountering a human. Her appearance made him feel a little better. First off, she had clothes on…some sort of dingy brown uniform. Second, she didn't look scared of him. For some reason, that made him relax. The neck collar that seemed to be displaying vital signs did not look good, nor did the thick metal wrist cuffs, but he forced himself to stay optimistic. At this point, he desperately wanted to find Meryl and see if she was in the same condition, but he could not just walk away from this girl and leave her in a place like this. She mouthed something, but Vash heard no words come out. He looked around quickly for some keys, but saw none.

"Stand back," he said. She was already in the corner, but she cowered a little lower at the command. Vash shot off the lock. He heard a few hoarse screams coming from other cells down the hall. The door swung harmlessly open and banged against the concrete wall. The girl scrambled to her feet. She looked a little unsteady, but practically skipped over to him. She leaned against the bars and pointed to her mouth.

_Water_, she mouthed with a questioning look on her face.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Vash muttered as he patted himself down for some kind of liquid. He finally pulled his flask out from inside his jacket and screwed off the cap.. He put the flask between the girl's hands. She still looked a little unconvinced. He smiled. "Don't worry, it's water." She sniffed at the container as Vash advanced down the hall.

There did not seem to be very many people here. The only noise he heard behind him was the girl padding along and the not-too-distant sounds of a gunfight. A few more women were in cells, but none of them were Meryl. He shot open their cells the same way he'd shot open the first, but he was starting to get nervous. What if she wasn't here? He _had _driven past a loading dock…

What if she'd already been…_sold_?

The vile concept whipped him into a barely containable frenzy. He doubled back and went the other direction down the hall. He passed the cell he came out of and went a little further. He didn't see anybody else. He was about to rip his hair out when a small movement caught his eye. In the shadowy corner of one of the cells, a little body lay curled up.

The size was right… The hair color was right… If it wasn't her, he didn't know what he was going to do.

He held his breath, and then shot the door open.

Besides breathing, the body didn't move at all. That made him very worried. He rushed in and bent over the little person. He exhaled slowly as the women from the other cells gathered around the bars, carefully passing his flask back and forth. She looked alright, but much thinner than before.

The neck collar seemed to cover her entire throat, and even though she was thin, he saw that it fit quite snuggly. The outside of it was constructed of metal, while the inside was a leathery plastic material. He tried to slip a finger between the collar and her skin, but some mechanism began inflating the plastic material. He pulled his hand back, a little horrified, and was only relieved when he saw the collar deflate slowly.

He went back to assessing her condition. She must have been deprived of food and water since the capture. He wasn't sure whether he should move her or not. If she was injured, it wasn't a good idea. Then again, he wasn't about to leave her here. He turned her face to the light. There were bruises on both her cheeks. Her face was swollen so that he didn't even recognize her.

Now he was starting to get scared.

He picked her up carefully. She was feverish, probably from dehydration. She seemed to be swimming in the uniform she was wearing. He was afraid to hold her too closely because she felt so thin, so fragile. Had she been losing weight before she'd left the ship? Was wasting a symptom of the imprinting process Doc had talked about?

He walked towards the other women and asked for the flask. There was just a little more liquid left. He squatted on his haunches and gently parted her lips and drizzled what was left slowly into her mouth. He then screwed the cap back on and pocketed it.

He looked up and was surrounded by people who needed to escape. He suddenly realized what kind of predicament he was in. His jeep was wrecked. Even if it worked, he didn't have enough gas to get to New Oregon. He knew he could handle the trek to the town, but these girls were already dehydrated as it was. They probably wouldn't make it, and he couldn't carry all of them.

They had to find another way out.

**

* * *

**

She had finally fallen asleep. Did this woman really intend to watch over him twenty four hours a day? What time was it, anyway? He felt so infantile taking a mid-day nap.

Knives sat up and stretched. He'd been pretending to be asleep for about an hour. He didn't want to give her any excuse to try to start a conversation. Milly had been reading a book and sitting next to his bed. She'd let her hair down again. Milly looked innocent when she was awake, but she looked even more so in sleep. She was resting her head on the back of the chair. She really did seem kind.

Knives hated her for caring.

What was her angle? Why was she taking care of him? She wasn't Rem. She didn't have anything to do with Rem. And if she was friends with Vash, she had to know what he was, what he'd done to his brother. Looking at her made his heart feel heavy. He didn't understand her. He'd hurt her and she was still taking care of him.

She looked so soft in sleep. She was sleeping with him in the same room. She trusted him.

He needed to get away.

He gently slid out of bed and pulled some slippers on. He checked the closet for a sweatshirt or a sweater. Knives found a dark blue hoodie on a hanger. He pulled it over his head and quietly walked out of the room.

Knives ducked into the bathroom. He caught his reflection in the mirror and almost gasped. It looked like his brother was staring right back at him through the mirror. His hair was too long. His eyes were droopy with fatigue and sadness. And the hoodie wasn't doing anything to differentiate the two. He stumbled out of the bathroom a little stunned. He'd spent over a century trying to establish himself as an individual and now he was running from his own reflection.

Knives made it to the door and took a deep breath. This was the moment of truth. Did they _really_ trust him?

He pushed the button and walked through the door. He tentatively wiggled his fingers. They still worked. And even though he was paranoid, he knew there was no trap waiting for him. These humans were stupidly trusting, weren't they…?

For some reason, knowing this made him sad.

He walked down the corridor blindly, not needing to know where he was going. These ships all seemed to be laid out the same. He walked for ages, letting the ship's production plant draw him to where he wanted to be. He stopped in front of a door with a keypad. Knives tried the panel. It was locked.

He really wanted in.

Knives looked at the keypad. He did not want to ask anybody to let him in, and if this was anything like his ship when he was a kid, this room was protected by a 10-digit passcode. Too many combinations…he was beginning to feel tired again. He sighed and tried to think of what it could be. He knew Vash was the sentimental type, to put it mildly. She had been, too.

He punched in Rem's old code: 8274564837.

It was the numerical equivalence of Vash and Knives' names.

Knives sucked in a breath of cold air as the door hissed open. He hadn't really thought it was going to work.

**

* * *

**

The women followed behind Vash as he navigated through the maze of hallways. He held the little unconscious body close to him. This place was designed to get lost in. He knew he was dragging these girls farther into the lion's den, but he had to find some sort of vehicle. He figured his best chance for finding any kind of car or truck would be in the loading area.

At every corner, he tensed up. The gunfire had stopped a few minutes ago. Someone had won. Slavers could come rushing at them at any moment. His diversion was gone. If he encountered armed men, he didn't know how he was going to be able to keep everyone safe. He kept his eyes open, constantly searching the environment around him for anything he could play up to his advantage. Unfortunately all he could see was bare adobe walls, locked doors, and the occasional fluorescent light. In fact, the only advantage he saw was the many shadowy expanses of hallway. He would go ahead to investigate and wave for the girls to follow when he knew the coast was clear.

Finally, he took a turn and ended up in the threshold of a large room. There were long thin cages that led into shadows. They seemed to be converging in the direction of the loading dock. Everything was in hidden in darkness. He couldn't see any vehicles from here, but half the room was out of view. He turned around and told the girls as quietly as possible to stay here while he checked it out.

Vash crept around the corner and slid into a shadow. He made his way between clean, empty cages. This place was streamlined to facilitate the rapid trafficking of human bodies. It was hard to keep his focus on just finding a car. With every step, he was reminded by the fragile weight in his hands the real intentions of a room like this.

Intellectually, he knew Knives was right. Humans could be monsters. They took advantage of his kind for everything. But somehow, Vash could almost rationalize the bondage of the plants. What he could not rationalize, however, was the violence committed by humans against humans. Each and every one of them started out with so much potential. They all began as loving kids who just wanted to play and explore the world around them. But he'd seen it many times…he'd seen the curiosity vanish as the kids he used to play with grew into teenagers, and then into adults. He tried his hardest to maintain that innocence, to cultivate it, but he knew it was an uphill battle. He knew he couldn't preserve that innocence, he couldn't protect everyone, but that was no excuse not to try, right? But ultimately, no matter what he did, it seemed that somehow between childhood and adulthood, imagination and even empathy all but disappeared…

He'd never understand that.

For a brief moment, he felt someone's eyes on him. Vash snapped back into reality. He scanned the room, but didn't sense any danger.

He slid into the shadows where he thought the cars might be kept. There was a large garage area with car parts, a hydraulic lift, and tools everywhere, but no vehicles at all. He almost had a heart attack.

They were going to have to walk across the desert.

He stumbled back between the shadows, trying to plan some sort of escape. They could go back the way they came. He was pretty sure he could navigate back to his jeep. He had a few canteens in the car. They could wait until nightfall. It would be very cold, and the girls didn't have enough clothes, but it would be better than the blistering heat of the day. Maybe there were some extra uniforms to keep them from--

"FREEZE," a stern voice rang out through the room. He stopped dead in his tracks. He waited for a few tense moments before he heard the voice again. "PUT YOUR HANDS UP." It was a female voice…a serious female voice.

He made a quick judgment, deciding in his head no female could possibly be part of the slave trade. He hoped he was right. "I…I can't put my hands up just now, but I mean no harm. I'm a friend," he tried in his most klutzy, friendly, ditzy voice. The shouting was coming from the loading dock area. If he squinted his eyes very tightly, he could make out the silhouette of a very tall woman, her gun just barely reflecting any light.

"COME INTO THE LIGHT," she shouted. "STATE YOUR NAME AND PURPOSE FOR BEING HERE."

Cautiously, he stepped into the light and looked in the direction of the voice. "I'm just a friend, and I'm just here for--" He stopped when he realized the person had hopped off of whatever she was standing on and hit the ground running…towards him. It worried him…until she came into the light.

His brain almost collapsed. Had he officially lost it? "…M……Meryl?" he whimpered.

"Vash?" she breathed. That was the last thing he heard. She looked stunned. She looked confused. Then she looked worried. She asked something, but he didn't respond. He was still trying to assimilate everything into something approaching logical. Now she looked angry. She started yelling at him, but he didn't hear any of it. She was completely fine. She had her white uniform on and her cloak full of derringers.

She was not captured.

She had no injuries.

She needed no rescue.

He couldn't stop staring at her. He wanted to scoop her up in a hug, but there was already someone in his arms. He looked down. Who _was_ this person he was holding?

She was back to looking worried again. He could see her mouth move in an _Are you okay_ fashion, but he just couldn't muster a response. She approached him slowly and looked at the stranger. Vash watched as Meryl tentatively touched her face. Meryl had a pouch attached to her belt. From it she pulled a spool of wire and some pliers. She snipped off a length she deemed appropriate and went to work. She examined the collar carefully, her delicate fingers finally resting on a small panel. She unceremoniously pried it off with the pliers.

She was talking while she worked. Some of her words bled into Vash's consciousness.

"…inflate to cause asphyxiation…tracking chip installed…can't escape without disabling…"

He couldn't really pay attention. Meryl was alright. She was safe. She didn't need him to save her.

She didn't need him.

He didn't know how long he stood there thinking about that. All he knew was that the next thing that brought him back to reality was a smack from Meryl. She was apparently sick of being ignored. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted. "Why aren't you answering me?"

His demeanor was completely apologetic. "I…I'm sorry…Meryl…"

Meryl cocked an eyebrow and the angry expression burned away to reveal a sincerely worried look. "What are you doing here?" she asked softly.

He shook his head. "I…don't know…"

She didn't know how to react to that. Even though Vash hadn't responded when she asked, she was pretty sure that Milly and Doc were okay, and she was very sure that Knives was fine. It wasn't easy to kill that jerk. What did he mean he didn't know what he was doing here? Why had he told her to leave if he was planning on showing up again? Why was he _here_?

"Well," she stated accusatorially, "You've certainly got perfect timing… We just finished taking out all the bad guys." He didn't react at all. She sighed. Being hard on him didn't seem to be the right thing. "We were looking for this little guy for quite a while," she started again, almost tenderly. "We found all the other male passengers in a corral near the front."

Had he heard her correctly? Had she just referred to this person in his arms as a…_little guy?_

Vash spoke up. "You know this person?" He looked down and realized the collar was lying on the ground already.

Meryl began to pick the lock on the handcuffs. "Well, not _personally_, but I know he's the son of the caravan leader. Process of elimination. He was the only boy still unaccounted for." The cylinders in the locking mechanism dropped into place and the cuffs fell open. "His dad was very worried..."

Vash's brain went back to blocking everything out again. This…was a boy? Oh god. If she _ever_ found out he had mistaken a boy for her, it would truly be the end for Vash the Stampede.

He tried to recover. "There…there are a few others…around that corner…"

Meryl smiled up at him. "So, you weren't _completely_ useless today," she said sarcastically. He didn't even look at her. He just looked down at the boy in his arms and set him down gently on the ground.

"He…he…probably needs medical attention. I don't know why he hasn't woken up."

Meryl looked Vash over. She should have been worried about this kid she'd been scouring the place for. She should have been worried about getting them out of this hell-hole. But she wasn't. She was worried about him. He wasn't alright, and this was anything but fair. She had already rehearsed what she was going to say to him if she ever saw him again. She was going to walk straight up to him, burst his cavalier bubble, and give him a piece of her mind.

How _dare_ he show up in this condition? How _dare_ he make her want to take care of him? How _dare_ he be so disastrously, self-sabotagingly easy to care about?

There was nothing wrong with caring about him, right? She'd told herself that before…but with him standing here…and not even responding to her…and looking so strangely empty… What was wrong with him?

"Vash?" she asked him quietly, like that could sum up all her introspection. He finally met her gaze, and it scared her. He just didn't look the same anymore. She'd seen him look sad before, but this was different. This was like someone had taken a vacuum to his brain and sucked all the joy out of his life. She took a small step toward him, not really sure what she intended to do, when she heard footsteps echo down the hall.

She whipped around quickly to see several armed men pour into the room. They had their guns drawn and they were pointing at Vash. Over her right shoulder, she saw a flash of motion as an old revolver emerged, aimed straight at the men. She felt a hand clamp down on her arm as Vash grabbed her and shoved her behind his body.

She didn't have time to think. She scrambled to get in front of Vash as quickly as possible. "HOLD YOUR FIRE!!" The men held off, but they didn't lower their aim. Slowly, she grabbed hold of Vash's jacket and tugged his arm down. "IT'S OKAY! HE'S A FRIEND." Her heart was palpitating. "HE FOUND THE REST OF THE PASSENGERS."

A chorus of hums and haws came from the men. Vash leaned over her and whispered into her ear. "Are you sure this is safe?"

Meryl took a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm down her heart. She relaxed against him. "Yeah. They're my team. They asked me to coordinate the rescue of the passengers. They're a little trigger-happy for my tastes, but they mean well."

She had…her own…team? He let out a body-deflating sigh. He'd been a complete fool to think she needed his help, hadn't he? He didn't know why this revelation hurt so much. He should have been happy that she was okay…better than okay. He felt her take another breath and then push off of him. He almost put his arms around her, but he didn't.

A few men rushed over to the women around the corner. A few came towards Vash and Meryl. They were full of congratulations for Meryl on a job well done. One man picked up the boy and rushed him away. As the men pulled Meryl away from him, she looked back at Vash. He was just standing there. One of the men walking beside Meryl stopped. "Aren't you coming?" he asked. "There's going to be a big party at the saloon."

Saloon, eh? A drink didn't sound like a bad idea.

* * *

a/n: sorry this chapter took so long to update... thanks mitai for beta'ing again (and keeping me from embarrassing myself...oi...) and thanks everybody who's still reading this story! STICK WITH IT! the next chapter is going to be a doozy... 


	21. chapter 21

It was cold, but he didn't bother with the heavy coats by the door. He wanted to know everything just the way it was.

Knives hadn't been in a room like this in well over a century. He hadn't expected it to feel so…_right_. Was it the newly regained sense of freedom? Was it the nearly freezing temperature? Was it the concentration of plant energy in this place?

It couldn't be the never-ending rows of sleep capsules. And it certainly couldn't be their contents.

Could it?

Knives looked around through the fog of his own breath. What was he doing here? Was he testing himself? Did he still feel afraid? He sat down in between two capsules and breathed deeply. He saw expressionless faces shielded by hazy glass. He smiled ruefully. The best laid plans, and still there were survivors. He had to hand it to the humans: they did not give up easily.

What did he feel?

Nostalgia, sadness, loneliness, loss…and a strange tug in his chest. Ancient words echoed through his mind.

"_We can work through a few little differences if we just talk to each other enough. We can come to understand each other."_ So much time had passed since Knives had said those words to his brother that it seemed like they'd been spoken in a former life.

Knives hadn't followed his own sage advice. He didn't talk to Rem. He didn't talk to Vash. He simply acted. Knives acted out of fear, and he killed. He forced others to kill.

He forced Vash to kill.

"_There's no difference between people's hearts and ours." _He'd really believed that when he said it.

Knives felt the cold seeping through his clothes. Was that still true? Why did he want it to be true? When he was little, he never imagined that things would turn out this way. Every day was new and exciting and fun. Every day held promise of the future…the future Rem wanted for Vash, for him.

Knives took that future away.

Vash was different from him. His brother could forgive. Vash could move on. If Knives was in his brother's position, there would be no way in hell he'd ever forgive the person who stole his mother away, stole that vision of the future.

Knives wanted that forgiveness so badly, but he knew he did not deserve it. He still held a grudge against the humans. He still hated them. Even the ones he'd hired he despised. They were a means to an end: getting his brother back.

Knives hung his head as he realized he would never feel any relief. He could not forgive the humans. He could not forgive himself.

He heard a noise behind him and he turned. The door opened. He heard voices.

"I _told_ you he'd be in here," one of the voices declared.

"But we're gonna be in _trouble_!" the other voice whined.

"Don't be a chicken. The door was already unlocked, anyway."

"I'm NOT a chicken!"

A boy popped his head into the room. "Well, come on then!"

Two little kids made their way through the entrance…two human kids. They had on oversized coats. They were smiling and they were practically climbing over each other to get to him.

For the first time in days, Knives was terrified.

The bigger one shouted at him. "Vash! You're back!"

They were fast approaching. It was all Knives could do to sit still and keep his cool. These children were obviously products of a sub-par educational system. The fact that they couldn't even distinguish between his brother and him spoke volumes.

The little one reached him first. Knives had thought this one would be apprehensive about approaching him, but he was clearly mistaken. "Do you remember me, Vash? I'm Jimmy! I was four when we first met!" Jimmy held out one of his hands with his fingers and thumb extended. "Now I'm five!"

_At least he can be trained,_ thought Knives.

The bigger one shook his shoulder. "Where the hell have you been, Vash! You didn't report for active duty. The captain is pretty pissed."

Knives was dumbfounded.

Jimmy's eyes went wide. "Umm mum mum!" He shouted warningly. He added in a whisper, "That's a bad word, Michael. I'm gonna tell Mom."

"_Pissed_ is not a bad word, and if you tell Mom, you'll be sorry," Michael declared. The older boy considered Knives for a moment. "Where's your coat, Vash?"

Knives got angry. "I'm not--"

"Of course you're cold, Vash," Jimmy said. "You can have my jacket if you need it." He started to pull the oversized coat off of him.

His older brother stopped him. "Come on, Jimmy. He's a real man. He can handle the cold." Michael gave Knives a thorough look again. "Wait a minute. Vash…were you… Were you crying?" He turned around and laughed. "Oh, this is rich. Wait until I tell the guys."

Knives ground his teeth together. He had come here for some solitude and these kids were completely ruining it. He was trying to think! He was trying to have a breakthrough! And these little brats wouldn't leave him alone! "FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT--" He was stopped when a warm little hand patted him on the shoulder.

Jimmy was looking at him. "It's okay, Vash. I cry sometimes." He leaned in and whispered loudly, "I even saw Michael cry a few days ago."

A "Did not!" barely registered in the back of Knives' mind. These kids really thought he was Vash…and they wanted to spend time with him. This was interesting. The loud scientific part of his brain wanted to see what a day in the life of The Stampede would be like. A much quieter, softer part of him didn't want to disappoint these kids. Standing there in those huge overcoats, the two of them reminded him of good times.

"Alright," Michael walked back, all bravado. "If you're feeling sad, I'll take you where real men go to feel sad."

Knives was a little baffled by this machismo mentality coming from what appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a nine year old boy. "Oh…kay."

Michael started walking. Jimmy panicked and pushed off of Knives. "Come on. He'll leave us if we don't keep up." Jimmy turned toward his brother. "Wait for us, Mikey!"

"Don't call me that!" Michael shouted over his shoulder.

Knives stood up and followed. This was slightly bizarre. What kind of racket was Vash running? "So, um, guys, is it _normal_ for your parents to let you hang out with strange older men?"

Michael cast a withering look at Knives. "Don't be a smartass. I'm a big kid. I don't need my parents to look out for me anymore." He turned around and kept walking. "But Dad said that if you hit on Mom ever again, he'll beat the shit out of you."

Jimmy began to protest his brother's language, but Knives didn't pay attention. What kind of racket _was_ Vash running?

They got to the door and he waited for the kids to hang their coats up. The older boy hung his up quickly and turned to leave. The younger one scrambled to do the same. Knives felt the little one slip a hand in his and pull him along. The child didn't seem to notice the hand wasn't real. Maybe it was because Vash himself had a prosthetic.

All this was a little shocking to Knives. These kids trusted his brother. They trusted him because he looked like his brother. And while the older one was clearly preoccupied with distinguishing the boys from the men, perhaps to a pathological degree, Knives found himself struggling with the fact that this little one was really growing on him.

He let the little boy drag him down the corridor. They were traveling to a lower deck. He remembered this hall from when Milly took him to the shooting gallery. He didn't want to go back there, so he was very glad when the older one abruptly changed course and stopped in front of an open door. The closer he got, the more noise he heard. It sounded…like a bar.

And that damned kid was tapping his foot waiting for Knives to catch up. Why did Vash put up with this crap? From kids, especially?

Knives finally arrived at the door to see a large stubborn man with arms folded standing in front of the one entrance. Michael snorted derisively and nodded towards Knives. "Can you believe this jerk says we can't go in?"

Knives was thinking that that made sense because he was with minors…until the stubborn man opened his mouth. "I don't care what you and Jimmy do, wiseass." He suddenly jabbed a finger in Knives' direction. "I said _he_ can't go in." The man stared hard at Knives and slowly folded his arms again.

Knives suddenly wanted to make this asshole wish he'd never been born, but Michael stuck himself in between Knives and the bouncer before any killing could occur. "Show some respect. You're talking to Vash the Stamp--"

"I know _exactly_ who I'm talking to, you little shit." The surly man didn't budge. "He's the asshole who destroyed July, killed all those people. He should be strung up and shot, and _then_ set on fire for good measure." The man snorted. "What kind of demon would do that kind of thing? I've got half a mind to call in the feds and collect that $$60,000,000,000 reward myself."

So this is what Vash had to put up with all the time. Knives wondered how Vash could ever allow himself to trust _any_ human. They'd do just about anything for money. He suddenly noticed Michael was standing up as tall as he possibly could.

"First off, Vash did _not_ destroy July! Anybody who knows him knows he wouldn't do something like that! Second, there is no more bounty on Vash! Get with the times old man. And third, if you called the feds, you'd be in just as much trouble as him." The bouncer actually looked nervous, which made Michael grin dangerously. "Yeah, don't think people on this ship don't know about your gambling ring. And don't _ever_ think you're one of us, outsider. We just let you work here because you can smell your own kind." Michael stared the gorilla down. "So back off of Vash!" he shouted.

This Michael kid was suddenly beginning to grow on Knives as well.

The bouncer looked like he was trying to form some sort of defense when a woman popped her head through the door. She looked around and her eyes quickly settled on Knives. Her face brightened when she "recognized" him as Vash. "Hey sugar! Long time, no see." She bumped the bouncer out of the way with her shapely hips. "Lloyd, why don't you stop…patronizing the customers…" She turned back to Knives and smiled. "I was expecting you to come around sooner. Come on, sugar, don't worry about him." She walked back inside, fully expecting to be followed.

Knives didn't quite know what to do until Michael jabbed him in the side. "I think…she likes you." Michael snapped his fingers together as if the best idea in the world had just struck him at that exact moment. "You want me to get the captain to draw up a new strategy? That last one didn't work so well…"

Knives was officially confused at this point. "_What?_" He used his entire lung capacity to articulate that one word.

Michael's expression turned cynical. "Vash, you're hopeless." He turned and started walking away. "Come on, Jimmy, we've got to go home."

Jimmy started to panic. He let go of Knives' hand and started running after his big brother. He turned around and smiled at Knives. "Don't forget to come and play with us later, okay?"

Knives waved, still quite confused. When the kids turned the corner, Knives dropped his hand and walked past the dejected bouncer. The scene he walked into, however, made just about as much sense as the one he'd just exited.

All the people in the bar were looking directly at him and smiling. They were all hooting and hollering, calling Vash's name. Everybody seemed to be an old friend.

He allowed himself to be pulled into the room by two women as a third slipped a tie around his forehead. Completely baffled, he was led to the bar, where the bartender produced perhaps the largest beer stein he had ever seen in his life and declared all drinks on the house for the night.

No wonder Vash had a drinking problem.

* * *

Vash himself was sitting in the corner of another bar in the middle of New Oregon with a very moderately sized beer stein on the table in front of him. Normally, he loved bars. It didn't matter who you were. As long as there was alcohol, everyone was a friend.

But today, it just felt so…_wrong_. He was the outsider, looking in at everyone else's celebration. He didn't feel like he was a part of the festivities at all.

Maybe it was because he wasn't really drinking.

He didn't know why, but that drink he'd wanted so badly in the first place didn't make him feel any better, and a second seemed pointless. He settled back in his chair and watched the people around him. Everyone seemed so happy. They were all toasting a job well done.

Meryl was somewhere in that mass of humans. He'd even seen her with a mug of beer, which made him smile a little. Even short girls had to let loose every once in a while, right?

People were getting pretty blitzed. Vash could tell because he kept hearing the same stories over and over and over again. The story of the rescue mission continued to get more and more epic with every round of drinks. Vash overheard from a few jealous compatriots that the true hero wasn't even in the bar. He was in the hospital. Apparently the collars were standard-issue government restraints, and one of the passengers who was kidnapped happened to be an army engineer. He was familiar with the design and the mechanisms and completely pulled out two of his fingernails prying the metal panel off of the collar.

With the help of the boy Vash had rescued earlier, the guy disabled the collar, walked across the desert without any food or water, and informed the people of New Oregon where the slave compound was. A rescue team was quickly put together with Meryl in the lead. Vash supposed they figured that if she could find him, she could find anything.

That was probably not too far from the truth…

He wanted to talk to Meryl so badly. She was right across the room, too. But somehow, she seemed so far away. He kept his eyes on her, but any time she looked like she was turning even remotely in his direction, he averted his gaze.

Besides, he couldn't think of anything to say.

He sat alone for a few hours, hunched over the table, and tried to absorb some of the good will that was floating around the place. One of the working girls sitting at the bar was making eyes at him. He smiled, but quickly looked away. The crowd was beginning to thin out. The barkeeper had been kind enough to grant free room and board for the night to anybody associated to with the rescue, so that meant he had a nice bed to sleep in whenever he wanted to go upstairs. Meryl was still talking with people, though, and he felt strange leaving her with all these men, even if she could take care of herself.

He stared at the old worn table. Vash hadn't talked to Meryl all night. He didn't know what he was doing here. He didn't know what he was waiting for. He didn't know what he wanted. Whenever Vash got this feeling, he would generally just skip town. This time, however, it felt like he'd never be able to get away from this feeling no matter where he went.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the chair next to him move and he looked up just in time to see Meryl sitting down. "Hey," she said friendlily, her cheeks a little rosy. "Everything okay over here? You're awfully nondestructive for being around so much alcohol." She laughed a little as she looked around. She seemed pleasantly buzzed. "I mean, if you haven't noticed, everything _is_ still standing."

Vash was a little shocked that he was so suddenly engaged in a conversation with Meryl, but he pulled it together and played along for her. "You're so cold, insurance girl." Vash looked past Meryl. "Why are you over here? The party seems to just be getting started."

She turned around and a disgusted expression graced her face. There were several men still drinking. "The party's over for me at least. I've got a bus to catch in the morning."

"A bus? Tomorrow morning?" He hadn't thought she would be leaving so quickly.

"Yeah…to December." Meryl turned back around. She seemed to be searching his eyes for something. She must have decided it wasn't there because she looked away and continued talking. "I have to show up since I don't officially have an assignment anymore or I could get fired."

He needed to say something or there was going to be silence and if there was silence, she might just leave. "I just thought…with the sandsteamer coming through town…"

"Jeez, Vash, The steamer is already _here_. It leaves at 8AM sharp." She looked him over. Even though he was going along with her jokes, Meryl couldn't shake the feeling that something was really bothering him. She tried teasing again to see if he'd lighten up. "Besides, I thought you knew me better," she said sarcastically. "Defeating thugs who want to hijack steamers might sound like a good time to you, but it does not appeal to me in the least."

Vash smiled a little as he ran his hand through his hair. "I guess I sort of forgot about that."

Meryl rested her chin in her hand and regarded him for a long moment.

She suddenly sat straight up. "Well," she said while looking around and bracing herself to stand, "I guess I should go get ready for bed."

Vash straightened up as well and tried his hardest to conceal his anxiety. "Already? I mean…so soon?"

Meryl laughed. "Vash, in a few minutes, it'll _be_ tomorrow."

He looked at her, trying to think of something to say to stall her, not really knowing why he wanted the extra time.

The look in her eyes suddenly changed as she spoke up instead. "At least this time," she started cautiously, quietly, honestly, "you can say goodbye."

"Meryl." That was all he could manage to say to her. The guilt he had been feeling up to this point was nothing compared to the guilt he was actually feeling now. He reached out a hand towards her, but suddenly lost confidence and changed course. Instead, he rubbed his tired eyes. "I…I…" Who was he to touch her, to tell her not to go? Was that what he wanted? Did he want her to stay?

Meryl suddenly felt bad for catching him off guard. Vash hated himself for everything. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out he'd be broken up about this, too. She had the sudden urge to talk...anything to get out of this situation. "It's really getting late, forget I said anything," she replied quickly with a nervous smile on her face. She twittered on. "I mean, this is why I don't drink! I say crazy things." The smile worked itself slowly off her face. She suddenly looked him in the eyes. She was clearly debating whether or not she could use her slightly inebriated state as an excuse for the next thing she blurted out. "How about we meet up for breakfast tomorrow? I mean, my bus doesn't leave until 11."

He recognized a life preserver when he one got chunked in his general direction. "Yeah, yeah…that sounds good."

She gave him a hard look. "Promise not to leave before then?"

Vash shook his head up and down emphatically. "Then, this is…goodnight?"

"Yeah," she said quietly as she finally stood up. "Goodnight, Vash. I'll see you in the morning."

Vash watched as she turned and walked up the stairs. Then he slumped back in his chair. There was no denying it now. He was an ass. She knew he was an ass. He knew she knew he was an ass. And Vash felt even worse because he really was considering leaving town before tomorrow morning.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Vash leaned back and stared at the ceiling for…he didn't know how long. Finally, the sound of a half full bottle of alcohol hitting the tabletop caught his attention and he looked up. The girl from the bar was standing in front of him with whiskey and two empty shot glasses.

"Want some company, handsome?" She didn't wait for his reply. She sashayed around the chair Meryl had been sitting in and pulled it close to him. She arranged her lace and satin dress before she sat down. She arranged the shot glasses in front of her and poured two drinks. "Here you go. You look like you need it."

He didn't feel like he needed it, but he didn't know what he needed at the moment, so he picked the glass up and knocked it back. The girl did the same. When she slammed the shot glass on the table, she leaned forward, further violating his personal space.

She was too close.

"What's your name?" he asked dryly.

"Whatever you want it to be." She smiled coyly.

Vash rubbed his forehead. He didn't want to play games with a stranger. "I want it to be the one your parents decided you should have when you were born."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Um…Susan." This guy wasn't her normal type of customer.

He kept rubbing his forehead. "Hi Susan. It's nice to meet you." He let his hand fall onto the table. "My name is--"

"Vash, right?" she supplied with unbridled enthusiasm. When she noticed he had his eyebrow arched nearly to his hairline, she smiled. "The girl from before, that's what she called you."

Vash relaxed. The absolute last thing he needed was to have some sort of Stampede hysteria on his hands.

The girl was still sitting there. She was looking at him, waiting for him to say something. He didn't. She got restless. Most men did not treat her this way. "So, what did a nice guy like you have to do to get a nickname like that, killer?" she joked.

Vash controlled his dismay by clenching his jaw. "Why did you come over here?" he asked without venom. "Did you think you'd spotted a guy who looked tired, lonely, and easily parted from his money?"

She was a little taken aback by his frankness, but she recovered remarkably quickly. "Well, two out of three ain't bad," she laughed, "but at the rate you've been drinking tonight, you look hard up."

He looked her straight in the eye. "Then why are you over here?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Look around: I'm compliments of the mayor."

Vash did look around and saw all the men who hadn't passed out were paired with their very own lady for the evening.

He gave her a hard look. "How old are you."

She smiled. She was glad he'd asked. "I'm almost seventeen," she said proudly. That was one of her best selling points, after all.

Vash laughed a sad laugh. "It's a school night. You should be in bed." He didn't look at her as he stood, picked up his bag, and began to walk away. "Thanks for the nightcap. Maybe it'll help me sleep."

She was flustered, but happy to be rid of that guy. She didn't even want to do this in the first place! She took the bottle and was about to walk back to the bar when a man caught her in his dark gaze. She walked quickly over to him.

"Did you get anything?" the man spoke in gruff, hushed tones.

"No, he was being evasive. He's a creep anyway. I don't think he's the guy." She tried to walk away, but he caught her arm.

"Listen, missy. You're not here to think. You're getting paid good money for a positive ID." He pulled her close despite her struggles and spoke to her alone. "I know you spent a lot of time tracking down your little sister. You want to wait until the price on her head goes up again?" He had her attention. She shook her head vigorously. "I didn't think so. Now go do your job." He pushed her roughly towards the stairs. She glared at him for a moment before gathering herself up and following in the direction Vash had gone.

He turned around and faced the bar one more time. His badge reflected in the light. He leaned towards the bartender. "You sure about this one, Frank? And is your girl up to it?"

He nodded. "Of course, Marshal. I heard that Meryl woman call him Vash several times today. I've never seen him around town, either. He showed up out of nowhere." He chuckled a little. "And don't worry about little Suzie. She'll get you what you need."

The federal marshal looked satisfied with the man's statement. He stood up and fished out his wallet, but the bartender waved his hand. "Don't worry, it's on the house."

The man smiled and pocketed his wallet. "Thanks, Frank. Let me know if your girl finds out anything." He waved and left the bar.

* * *

The tea kettle was on the small range.

The paper was on the table.

The pen was in her hand.

Even in a little hotel in the middle of nowhere, it was possible to maintain a little bit of order. The order made her feel better: more centered. She needed it after what she'd been through today. If she never saw another slaver compound again, it would be too soon. And she must have personally shot five people today. When she was a little kid, she never thought it would be normal for her to have to use that kind of deadly force on a daily basis. Her father knew it was a possibility, though, and made sure his little girl knew her way around a gun.

How frightening it must have been for him to trust a child with a firearm because he feared for her life.

Order helped her keep these kinds of thoughts at bay. If she'd had her typewriter, she might feel a little better, but it was hard to ask for more: a clean bed, a private bath, a small kitchenette. She'd stayed in far more primitive places…when she was following him…

Seeing Vash today was unexpected to say the least, but she was sad to see that his behavior towards her really hadn't changed. The last time she'd seen him, he didn't pay any attention to her. She just didn't have it in her to give and give without any potential for ever getting anything back from him. And she couldn't even derive some sense of satisfaction from being angry at him, what with that kicked-puppy look he had all night.

Even though it hurt, she knew now that going back to December was for the best. She could get her life back together there. That whole imprinting thing was a little worrisome... Vash had seemed devastated. Then again, the man was prone to hyperbolic reactions and Doc didn't seem to think it was such a bad thing.

If anything, it made her want to investigate her long-term investment options.

Meryl's buzz had worn off a while ago and she realized she wasn't quite ready for bed. Something still seemed unfinished. She'd decided to write Milly a letter. Meryl had jotted something down, but it sounded so cold when she read it out loud. Of course, Milly would be impressed by the effort alone, but Meryl wanted to send something that sounded a little more, well, friendly.

She was just about to restart her letter on a fresh page when she heard a scream...a high-pitched scream…a Vash scream…

She almost jumped out of her chair before she stopped herself. It wasn't her job to look out for him anymore.

Still…she was curious.

She quickly walked to the door and accidentally bumped into her suitcase, almost knocking it off of the nearby loveseat it was sitting on. She checked to make sure she had her room key, then opened the door and walked out of her room cautiously. She heard voices coming from around the corner. Silently, she crept along the wall.

Despite all her attempts to logically assess the situation, the sight in front of her simply made her want to die. Vash was pushed up against the wall and an absurdly young girl with a painted face and a pretty dress was leaning up against him. She was touching his neck, touching his face. She put her hand around his left bicep and squeezed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed innocently. "You've got a body of steel, don't you, Vash?" This girl…Meryl wanted to kill her.

"More like shrapnel," Meryl heard Vash say under his breath. He was looking straight forward, his whole body tense, ready to bolt, and Meryl suddenly realized how uncomfortable he was with what was going on.

That made _her_ feel a little better, but didn't help to explain the situation at all.

The girl was making fun of him. "You're blushing!" she teased. "That's so cute." She looked him over with a predatory glint in her eye. "This isn't…your first time, is it?"

At that, Vash finally peeled her off of him by grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to stand at arm's length. "Please. I thought I made myself clear downstairs that I wasn't in the market for your services."

The girl suddenly changed tactics. She looked down and her voice was low. "It's a woman, isn't it? Who broke your heart? She…doesn't want you, does she?" she asked slowly, testing. The girl didn't see Vash's expression change, but Meryl did. Vash closed his eyes and leaned his head back. "She…doesn't…need you."

Vash dropped his arms to his side. "Please stop." He was practically begging.

The prostitute looked up at him and touched his face, rubbed his cheek softly with her thumb. "I need you." Vash kept his eyes closed and his face up, but he didn't move to brush her off of him.

Meryl was a) disgusted that Vash was allowing a child to manipulate him like this and b) quite impressed. Meryl gave credit where credit was due, and this girl knew more about the art of seduction than she ever would. Meryl's mind, however, refused to delve any deeper into the meaning of the conversation she'd just witnessed.

Susan used her unoccupied hand to unzip the front of Vash's jacket and slowly trailed her fingers from his neck down to his chest. So she'd been wrong. She'd seen his type all over the place: the hopelessly in love. They were easy sales. There was no way in hell this guy was involved with The Stampede.

So he felt like he had a prosthetic arm. So what? He was still too soft, too sensitive to be involved with a murderer of that caliber.

Susan knew she couldn't go too fast. Guys like him needed to be coaxed. As long as she controlled the situation, though, he'd be eating out of her hand. She especially liked providing her particular services to this type of man: they often turned into repeat customers and they were eager to please.

It made her job easier.

The standard procedure with this type was to establish some semblance of intimacy, usually in conjunction with any number of hokey romantic phrases that boys routinely threw at girls. She had been shocked initially when she realized they worked equally as well on hopeless males.

Her plan was to place her hand on his chest, over his heart, and say something corny about his heartbeat. The plan was simple enough. When Susan began to implement the strategy, however, something she wasn't expecting happened: her finger got caught in his chest.

Her finger…got caught…in his chest.

WHY WAS THERE A HOLE IN HIS CHEST?!?!

Susan tried to keep her cool, but the only way she could get her finger out was to wiggle it and yank her hand back. He hadn't been kidding: this guy really was made of shrapnel! He didn't exactly match the description the marshal gave her, but he was sure close. He was tall and thin with longish hair. He probably _was_ covered in scars. She slowly began to panic.

This could be the guy.

What had she gotten herself into? She took a step back, towards the door. "I…think I'll go freshen up a bit." She didn't take her eyes off of him until she had gotten the door closed between them.

Vash stared at the ceiling until he heard the door click.

For his part, Vash had been expecting a reaction like this. The surest way for him to run somebody off was to let them get close.

It didn't do much for his self esteem, though.

Vash slid down the wall and settled on the ground. He held his head in his hands. He didn't know where he was going to sleep anymore, and he was so tired. He'd been driving and worrying and sitting and agonizing all day long.

Susan was in his room, and considering past experiences, he was pretty sure she did _not_ want him to join her. The hall was too bright.

Maybe it would just be better for him to head back to the SEEDS ship tonight.

He sighed deeply. Was he really that easy to see through these days? If Susan ever went back to school, she'd definitely have a bright future in psychology.

A door slammed down the hall and he looked up. He wasn't expecting to see Meryl peeking out from around the corner. He froze. She stood there for a moment, then disappeared.

It was a good ten seconds before he grabbed his bag, found his feet again, and went after her.

He heard her door close before he rounded the corner and realized he didn't know which room she was in. He estimated from the sound how far down the hall she was.

Now he just had to knock on doors.

"Meryl?" he shouted desperately at the first door.

"Fuck off." It was a man's voice. Definitely not Meryl.

He moved to the next. "I just want to apologize."

"This room's occupied," a woman answered. Most likely not Meryl.

The third time was supposed to be the charm. "Please, just talk to me."

Silence.

"There's nothing to apologize for."

Bingo.

"I'm so sorry," he said, a little quieter now, but still loud enough to draw complaints from the other rooms. "Just let me talk to you."

Her reply was muffled through the door. "You did _nothing_ wrong." A pause. "Even if you _had_ slept with her, you wouldn't have been doing anything _technically_ illegal, and it's not like you've got a wife or girlfriend to worry about anyway."

He was starting to feel helpless. People were sticking their heads out of their doors and he was on the receiving end of dirty looks and impolite hand gestures. "I really need to talk to you. I _need_ to talk to you." His forehead knocked against the door with a quiet thunk. "Just…talk…" he finished weakly.

"It's really late, Vash." A pause. "I'm going to bed."

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to imagine that the angry patrons around him weren't watching him as he made a fool of himself outside a girl's room. He waited for them to quiet down and go back inside their rooms, then he turned around and slid down Meryl's locked door.

She wouldn't even talk to him.

He sighed. "You knew it would happen," he whispered to himself. "They all run away eventually."

Unexpectedly, the door fell open and he was suddenly flat on his back, looking at a furious upside-down Meryl. "Get inside, you idiot." She turned around and stomped into the room, leaving him unwatched as he scrambled to his feet. He was a little shocked to be allowed inside, but he tried to act cool and shut the door behind him.

Her room was small, but it was packed with stuff, making it seem even smaller. There was a tiny couch which was currently occupied by the infamous pink suitcase, a bed, a bedside stand with a lamp, a table, a chair, and a small stove. Meryl was at the stove taking a whistling kettle off the heat.

Actually, now that he thought about it, the room was perfectly sized for Meryl.

"Would you like some tea?" she asked him, not unkindly.

"Tea? Yeah, actually, tea would be great." He moved around the room looking for a place to sit. "I haven't had tea in a long time, maybe since before we left that last town…" He snapped his fingers. "Look at me. I can't even remember the name." Vash knew he sounded nervous. He was nervous.

Vash thought about sitting in the chair at the table, but it looked like Meryl was involved in something, so he set his bag down, took off his jacket and tried to look as natural as possible as he sat down on the side of the bed. She finally turned around and approached him with a mug of steaming liquid. "It's very hot," she warned, apparently not furious any longer. The handoff was uneventful.

She got her own mug and sat down at the table, tucking a leg underneath her. She sat in silence waiting for him to speak, but he was acting oblivious. "So," she started, barely containing a growl, "you wanted to…talk?"

Vash nodded and set the mug down on the bedside stand. "Yeah."

Meryl waited for him to continue, but he didn't. "Well, what about?" she prodded.

He sighed and looked around the room. "A lot of things."

Vash did not expound upon what those things were, however.

It was the same old silence she heard every time they were alone. Meryl was getting tired of it. "Why are you in my room, Vash? Why are you not sleeping with that…_girl_?"

Vash was glad he'd set his tea down. Otherwise, he was sure he would have dropped it. He ran his hand through his hair. "Um…I can tell you…Are you sure you want to know?" he asked a little nervously.

Wait, did she want to know? "Of course I want to know! I asked, didn't I?" She didn't want to know, did she.

Vash leaned back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. He got that look in his eyes that he had when he thought nobody was watching him. She was almost convinced he wasn't going to speak again when he did start talking. "There are…a lot of reasons, actually." He sighed. "First off, she was really young. I mean, younger than you even."

Meryl didn't know whether that should have been taken as a compliment or as an insult.

He continued. "I know I kid around about being a lecher, but I can't stand the thought of somebody that young having to sell her body to get by. She should be talking to friends about boys her age and deciding what she wants to be when she grows up, not hanging out in bars and getting drunk so she can have sex for money."

Meryl hummed thoughtfully. It was easy to see how that could make a guy have unsexy thoughts.

The words seemed to be coming to him more easily now. "And a lot of girls who work like that are doing it to buy back family members. The law is very fuzzy when it comes to human trafficking. Some cities outlaw it completely, other cities encourage it." He stopped for a moment. "And to think that a girl would have to sleep with a guy like me to make enough money for that…it just feels so wrong. I wish they'd just ask me for my help instead."

Wow…he did need to talk. "You can't save everybody," Meryl offered meekly.

"I know," he said, "but I should be able to help. Somehow." He sighed heavily. "And in a situation like tonight, where someone had already paid the girl…" he trailed off. "I mean, you've got this girl, and she's expecting to…entertain a guy for the night, and he gets his clothes off, and…he looks…like me." He lingered on that thought a moment. "I don't want to make anybody feel like they're obligated to… I mean, if a girl…saw me…and then she didn't want to…you know…it's just that….I really wouldn't blame her." He sighed again, gathering his thoughts. "It would be wrong of me to impose myself on someone like that, even if I were paying her for a service."

Meryl was very glad that he wasn't looking at her because she had tears in her eyes. "That's not the way it is."

Vash laughed sadly. "You don't have to say that. It used to be different when I was younger…when I didn't look like this… But you saw the girl tonight." Meryl couldn't deny that. "I didn't even _have_ to see her. I could feel the look she was giving me." He got quiet for a moment. "She was terrified of me. And she was a professional. What would a normal girl do?"

Meryl was losing control of her voice. "I mean, that's not the way it has to be! I know there's someone who will--"

Vash laughed genuinely, but kept looking at the ceiling. There was no point in arguing when she was worked up like this. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." He thought a moment. "There's another reason, too."

Meryl was almost afraid to ask.

"It wouldn't be fair to you, really, if I'd slept with her."

"What?" she squeaked.

"Well, you saved a lot of people today…a lot more than I did, and it wouldn't make sense if they rewarded me over you, now would it?" Vash propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at her. "I mean, you _might_ like a night with a pretty lady, but I wouldn't assume that kind of thing about you…"

She was turned slightly away. "Don't be silly. They just gave me a cash reward."

"That's not fair! I want money!" he joked.

"Don't be so loud," she admonished.

He looked at her seriously. "Meryl," he started quietly, "about tonight: I--"

She stood up abruptly. "I've really got to take a shower."

He noticed she was looking anywhere but at him. He suddenly felt unanchored. "Oh. Well I--"

"You can stay here…as long as you want." She went to her suitcase and got some clothes out of it. "Really, I don't mind." She walked into the bathroom before he could respond.

Vash lay back on the bed, confused about what had just happened, but too tired to really give it any thought. He heard the shower start. It was a relaxing sound. He listened passively as his eyes grew heavy.

Meryl was very happy to be behind a door with a lock at this moment in time. All the victories over her lacrimal glands that she'd gained in the last few days were completely lost in the blink of an eye. She found herself sitting under the shower bawling so hard that her throat hurt.

She was trying her very hardest to keep quiet.

It was times like these when she really had to take a good long look at herself. She tried to be strong. She tried to set boundaries. She tried to live by logic, deferring to emotion only under special circumstances. Two days ago, she was convinced that if she ever saw Vash again, she would rip him a new one. Two days ago, she almost had herself believing that she wouldn't even think twice about walking out of his life completely.

But now…right now…she knew she'd only been kidding herself. She cared about him. She cared about him more than she'd like to admit to herself. And he was here, and he didn't have to be, and it was totally screwing her up. She thought she could handle him being here. She thought she could keep her cool and just get on the bus and get on with the rest of her life.

She'd been so proud of herself for the way she'd behaved today. She didn't fall all over him when she saw him. She didn't start crying. She didn't launch into his arms, tackle him with a hug, or otherwise embarrass the hell out of the both of them with some flagrant show of affection. She didn't even give him that much attention at the party earlier and she hadn't really felt bad about it, either.

But now, after what she saw tonight…and that conversation… It was too much. She couldn't just pretend like it hadn't happened. And now she was sobbing in the bathroom and for all she knew, Vash was in the other room going through her unmentionables.

She tried not to get excited about the prospect that he had come all this way to stop her from leaving, but it sort of made sense. And the possibility that this was the case significantly reduced her urge to beat the crap out of him.

But, then again, he didn't even seem to know why he was here. Was she just leading herself on?

And even if he did ask her to stay, what was she supposed to do? Put her life completely on hold because some guy who had every chance to have her suddenly decided that that sounded like a nice idea?

Meryl stopped herself. She wasn't really being fair, was she? Vash had it rough.

It had been almost unbearable to sit there and listen to Vash talk about himself that way. And what was worse, she knew people had treated him like that. She _had_ seen the prostitute today. She _had_ seen bits and piece of memories, girls looking like they couldn't get away fast enough.

He felt so lonely. What killed Meryl, though, was that he didn't seem to see anything wrong with that. He'd just accepted that this was normal treatment and that it would never change. She wanted to protect him from these feelings he had, but she didn't know how to do that.

She was leaving tomorrow, for crying out loud. What was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to stay with him? Would he let her? Could she actually get on that bus tomorrow morning and leave him?

She didn't know. She needed more time! She needed to talk to him.

God, this wasn't going to be pretty.

Meryl stood under the water until she'd calmed down a bit, then got out of the shower, toweled off, and got dressed. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was sticking up, her eyes were puffy, her old night shirt was…old. She looked like hell.

But at least she looked like clean hell.

She took a deep breath and unlocked the door. She walked out of the bathroom towards the bed. Vash was still lying there.

"Vash?" she asked quietly.

No response.

She inched a little closer and leaned over the bed. "Vash? Are you awake?"

Still no response. The guy was sleeping like a log.

She sighed, a little disappointed, a whole lot more relieved. He was laying the wrong way on the bed with his legs over the side. She pulled him gently by his shoulders with a quiet, "come on," for encouragement. He followed her tug and moved so that he was aligned more comfortably on the bed. One of his legs made it onto the mattress. She carefully lifted the other one. Meryl removed his gun from his belt and placed it on the bedside table. She didn't know if he'd want to wear it or not, but it didn't seem safe to her. She stood back and gave him a once over.

He still had his boots on.

She smiled as she remembered the first time she'd taken those things off by herself. Meryl had actually gone through the trouble of undoing every single strap. After Vash regained consciousness and returned to normal, she could see that he was not pleased, but he didn't say anything about it. He just showed her the two snaps that really mattered for boot removal.

That being said, it still wasn't _easy_ to get the boots off. She still had to know exactly where to push and what to turn at the same time before they would release Vash's feet. Finally, she did succeed in her battle against the footwear and she placed the boots on the floor by his bag. She looked at his face to make sure he was still asleep before she massaged his feet gently. She would die if he caught her doing this, but she just…wanted to do something nice for him.

Meryl almost laughed at herself. Two days ago, being nice to Vash was the absolute last thing on her mind.

Her eyes cautiously flitted to his face as her hands worked. Through his socks, she could feel a huge scar on the top of his right foot. Every time she saw that scar, she wondered what kind of crazy acrobatics he'd been doing to get shot like that. And Meryl had always been a little envious about Vash's socks as well. They were perfect for travel: a very durable, wicking fabric. She wished her uniform was made out of something like that. She would have to ask Doc about them when she saw him again…

_If_ she saw Doc again…

Meryl reminded herself sternly that it wasn't time to play house. It was time to go to sleep so she could catch a bus in the morning. Every bit of her was reluctant to move, but she still stood up. Carefully, she reached over Vash to get the comforter. She pulled it around him sort of like a sleeping bag. Meryl snagged the extra pillow and looked around the room for a place to sleep. She spotted the loveseat and moved her suitcase out of the way.

Meryl needed a blanket. She went to check the linen closet in the bathroom, but all she could find was an extra sheet. She sighed, grabbed it, and turned off the bathroom light. She clicked the lamp off next to Vash. Meryl stumbled over to her suitcase and grabbed a pair of leggings. She put them on and walked over to the loveseat where she folded the sheet in two and laid it on top of her. It was getting a little cold, but she snuggled into the pillow and tried to get some rest anyway.

* * *

Milly was a wreck. She'd been searching for Knives for hours. She'd looked everywhere.

Vash was going to kill her. Maybe not kill her, but he was definitely going to make her feel very, very bad.

He left her with one request. Just one request! "_Will you be his guide and babysitter? I know you can do it._"

It sounded so simple. She wasn't sure how to be a guide, persay, but she was pretty sure she had a good grip on the babysitter part. And now Knives was gone.

Oh, it made her nervous. No amount of window washing would fix this!

Milly informed Doc of what was going on and went back to the twins' room just in case Knives decided to show up. She knew it was late, but she couldn't even think about sleeping. That's what had gotten her in trouble in the first place!

The problem was that she didn't really _know_ Knives. She didn't know where he would be most likely to go. She just had to wait until Doc or someone else found Knives, which was an uncomfortably passive role for her to take. It was necessary, though. Milly simply did not know her way around the ship as well as the residents did.

It was the middle of the night, but the chime on the intercom was music to her ears.

"Doc?"

"Hello, Milly. We found your ward."

"Oh you did! That's fantastic!" She was basically jumping for joy at this point.

"But I need someone to carry him."

Carrying? That didn't sound good. "Is he alright?"

Doc laughed. "Of course. He's just had a little too much to drink. Can you go down to the bar? It's part of the newer construction, a few decks down."

"Um…Sure! I'll be right there!" She disconnected the intercom.

Bars were full of people. That seemed like an odd place for Knives to be…

She made her way down to the bar as quickly as possible, jogging most of the way. She wanted to make sure everyone was alright. Knives seemed to be changing, but she would still feel terrible if he had hurt someone because she had dozed off.

She spotted the entrance and ran for it. She burst in and was simply shocked by what she saw.

Knives was crying, hugging the bartender, and telling him what a great guy he was. He was holding on to Vash's mug, which was odd, considering nobody got to drink out of that except for Vash.

Scratch that. Nobody could _survive _drinking out of that except for Vash.

This was just not normal. She gaped at the scene for a moment. The bartender finally caught her eye and mouthed to her: GET HIM OUTTA HERE.

She hopped into action. Milly went to the other side of Knives and tapped on his shoulder. "Hey there," she said, getting his attention.

Knives had the goofiest grin on his face. She almost started laughing. "Milly, I don't know if you've met Paul." He looked at the bartender. "Have you met Paul, Milly?" He looked back at Milly.

Milly was smiling. "No, I do not believe I've met him." She extended her hand. "Hi! I'm Milly!"

The bartender was about to crack. "Hi, I'm tired, and I've still got to mop the floor and restock inventory. Can you get this guy off me?"

Milly's face took on such an apologetic expression that the bartender instantly felt guilty. "Oh, right. I'm so sorry," she said. She turned back to Knives. "Come on, let's go." Milly pulled his arm around her shoulder and looped hers around his waist and pulled him up, lifting most of Knives' weight off of the bartender. "It was nice to meet you Paul. If he wants to come back down here, I'll be sure to accompany him."

Paul looked relieved. "That sounds like a good idea, miss. Goodnight, you two."

Knives seemed a little annoyed that he was suddenly responsible for moving his own legs, but it didn't really alter his current mood too much. "Milly, why didn't you ever tell me about these…bars…? They're great! Especially that Paul guy. He just keeps those beers coming."

Milly laughed. "I really didn't think you'd like to go out to a bar, but now that I know, I wouldn't mind going myself!"

Knives trudged along with Milly's help. "You know, I feel great. I think I might have made some rash decisions about your kind before, but right now, I'm feeling really good."

Uh oh. Milly needed to get some aspirin and coffee before Knives woke up in the morning. If his newfound love for humans really was correlated with the effects that alcohol had on his body, there was no hope for anyone in the morning.

* * *

Okay. She had tried to get to sleep for forty-five minutes, and giving up her warm, comfy bed so that a poor, lonely gunman could have a bit of respite was all well and good, but damn it! She needed to sleep, too.

It was freezing in this place. The jerks at the front desk must have turned the heat off at some point because Meryl didn't remember it being this cold earlier. She'd already put on two pairs of socks and folded the sheet she had into fours.

She absolutely refused to cuddle up next to Vash. Not only was it unprofessional, but if she accidentally woke him up, Vash would probably take off. And she didn't exactly know why she'd rather be cold than make Vash leave, but for some reason, that was the way it was and it was way too late tonight to question.

She couldn't use her mantle unless she removed all her derringers, and if she did that, it would be noisy and time consuming and she'd have to put all the guns back before she left tomorrow morning. She'd already snuck into the bathroom again just to make sure there weren't any more sheets, and the towels were just glorified washcloths.

She sat up and looked around the dark room. There was an unutilized jacket lying on the ground next to the bed. She would normally feel bad about using other peoples' stuff without asking, but Vash was in her bed, so she figured it was probably even. She snuck over quietly and picked up the jacket, knocking over one of Vash's boots in the process. It didn't make a very loud noise, but it sounded deafening to her.

She heard Vash make a quiet gasp and stayed absolutely still. She held her breath. Maybe he didn't wake up and he wouldn't think she was a stalker. Maybe he would just turn over and go back to—

"Meryl?" she heard Vash speak in a slow, gravelly voice.

Damn it. She turned around with a ridiculous smile on her face. "Hi there!"

Vash looked confused. "What…are you doing in my room?"

Her embarrassment was spontaneously converting to anger. "_Your_ room!? This is _my_ room!"

He propped himself up and she saw the instant when everything came back to him. He suddenly had the most contrite look on his face. "Why…" He rubbed his face. "…didn't you wake me up?"

By this time, Meryl's toe was tapping uncontrollably. "Believe me, I tried."

He sat up and swung his legs out of the bed. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." Why were his boots off? "I'm sorry. I'll get out of your hair."

He started to lean down to get his boots, but she stepped close to him, a sudden pang of compassion coursing through her. She put her hands on his shoulders just to make sure he didn't try to stand up. She spoke quietly. "I was mostly kidding. You should stay here." He looked at her and it made her nervous. "It's just that…I hate staying in these hotels by myself. Milly would always be with me. I don't really like traveling alone."

Vash sat so that they were at about eye level. He seemed to be weighing what she'd said. "Are you…still leaving tomorrow?" he asked in the same tired voice.

Alright. The compassion was starting to evaporate as well and sarcasm was waiting in the wings. She was cold, she was tired, she was irritated, and Vash was making it out like leaving was all her idea. "Well, it's not like anybody even asked me to stay, is it? Between you and Milly, I'm surprised you guys didn't buy my bus ticket for me. And Knives…" Meryl accidentally let out a growl.

He dropped his gaze. He took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Do you hate me? I mean, for everything that's happened?" He didn't look at her.

Meryl realized they obviously weren't on the same page. "Why in the world would I hate you?"

"I couldn't." He stopped. She felt his arms come around her loosely. She tried not to let her surprise show too much.

She waited a moment before she spoke up. "You couldn't…what?"

He sighed again. "I couldn't…keep you safe. I couldn't take care of Knives and keep you safe at the same time." He pulled her a little closer. "I think about it all the time. I think about what I could have done instead so that you wouldn't have been there when Knives woke up." He finally looked at her. "I know there had to have been a way…to keep you from getting caught up in it. But…I didn't know…and I was afraid that if I didn't pull you close when my arm…I was afraid you would…die. I promise I didn't know what it would do to you."

Meryl didn't know what to say. All she could do was try to counter his fears. "I…I…Doc checked me out and he says I'm healthy. You didn't hurt me, Vash. Just…stop thinking about it. And stop using what happened to me to feel bad about yourself. It makes me feel like a jerk."

He looked away again. "But your lifespan… You don't know what it's like. You don't know what kind of curse it is to be like this…"

Meryl sighed. This could go on all night. "Well, I'm not going to know that until I get there. And…and…I'm still mortal, after all. There are myriad ways I can still die, so--"

She suddenly found herself wrapped up in quite a fierce embrace. Vash's cheek was pressed against hers. "Don't." She could feel his shaky breath on her skin. She closed her eyes and listened to him. "Don't say that. Please."

"I didn't mean to…" she whispered, but didn't have time to finish the sentence.

"I was so worried about you," he blurted out. "Doc got a dispatch. It said the caravan had been attacked."

Damn it. She knew she should have written a letter or something.

Vash continued. "When I heard, I left immediately. But…you had everything under control…so I didn't…" He held her close to him. "You're safe. That's the most important thing."

Suddenly the way he was acting made some sort of sense. "I didn't mean to make you worry, but…I'm glad you're here."

"Really?" he asked weakly.

"Yeah." She finally relaxed against him. His arms loosened, but he still held her closely. She didn't know what all of this meant exactly, but it felt good.

They stayed like that for a long time.

Meryl was just about to consider going to sleep again when she felt Vash's arm slowly slide down her back.

She panicked. What did it mean?

She felt his hand venture slowly from back territory to butt territory.

"Vash?" she asked, nervous.

He stayed silent as his hand kept moving slowly…until finally, it fell off of her completely. It hung limply at his side. Vash didn't move it at all.

She suddenly realized he was asleep.

She almost laughed out loud. She knew for sure she was blushing. Gently, she arranged him back on the bed and under the blanket. She picked up his jacket and pulled it around her. She looked at him.

So he had come for her.

That was good to know. She lingered a moment more by the bed before going back to the couch and trying to get some sleep. She pulled her knees up under the jacket and covered herself with the blanket.

This might actually work.

She rolled over slightly and a mass in the jacket suddenly poked her. She fished around until she found the pocket that was containing the offensive matter and pulled out its contents. She stared dumbly at it for a few seconds before realizing what it was: Her missing handkerchief.

She thought back to the last time she'd given it to him. He'd kept it? It meant something to him?

She folded up the square of cloth, put it safely back in its place, and tried to get some sleep.

* * *

A/N: whew! that WAS a doozy! longest thing evar. THANKS TO MITAI for beta-ing and the encouragements! yay!

sorry this update took so long. i hope i still have some readers out there. read and review:)

NEXT CHAPTER...well, it's gonna be a doozy as well... STAY TUNED!


	22. chapter 22

A/N: POKE...anybody still out there? For some reason, I am feeling the TRIGUN LOVE today...so I wrote another chapter... ENJOY!

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The smell of fresh coffee greeted Meryl as she woke up. Without opening her eyes, she reached out to grab an alarm clock, but there was no table next to her. Disoriented, she sat up and looked around the room. She was surprised to see Vash sitting at the table reading a newspaper, and then remembered where she was: in New Oregon, on a loveseat, over a saloon…

"Hey there," Vash said with a smile as he waved his fingers at her. "I made some coffee." He gestured towards the stove.

"Um, thanks," she said a bit nervously. She was halfway surprised that he was still there. It was kind of weird for him to be in her room first thing in the morning, but it wasn't an unpleasant kind of weird. She stretched and yawned, "What time is it?"

"I'd say…it's about 6:15," he estimated.

Meryl burst into motion, all weirdness forgotten. "Damn it, I over-slept!" She stood up and assessed the room and what she would need to do before boarding the bus later today. "I thought I set the alarm clock for six…" she muttered to herself.

Meryl saw Vash wince a little out of the corner of her eye. "Um…you did…but I figured you would rather wake up to coffee than to an alarm." He was folding the newspaper instead of looking at her. "Plus," he further justified, "you went to bed pretty late. I thought maybe you could use a little more sleep…I wasn't going to let you sleep for too much longer though…" He trailed off expecting a lecture, knowing she was a creature of habit, but all Meryl did was take a deep breath and continue what she was doing, although a little more slowly this time.

"Well," she started, "I guess I am not in _that_ big of a hurry. I mean, my bus doesn't leave for another 3 hours…" She had mostly finished gathering her belongings and consolidating them near her suitcase. She looked around the room again, searching for something else to do. Without a task to occupy her, though, she didn't know what to say.

Vash seemed to be in the same predicament. He looked at her, but the silence was becoming awkward. His eyes darted around the room until he saw the cupboard. "Oh yeah, coffee?" he offered unsurely.

"Yes. Coffee. That would be good," Meryl replied, relieved to have something to do.

Vash pushed the newspaper away and got up out of the chair. He retrieved a mug out of the cabinet, poured Meryl a cup, and put it on the table. "Here, you can have this seat," he offered, not quite sure what to do with himself. Standing up, the room felt way too small for the two of them to be in it alone.

"Ah, thanks," Meryl said apprehensively. As she moved towards the seat, Vash walked around the other side of the table. He looked too restless for her tastes, like he was going to bolt at any moment. "So…" she started, trying to make conversation, but nothing came to mind.

"So…I thought…I would go…get some breakfast!" he finished with a victorious grin.

Meryl began nodding. "Right, that sounds great!" She expected him to leave, but he didn't go anywhere. He just stood there, looking completely out of place.

"Well, I just…" he started sheepishly.

Meryl looked confused. "…Something wrong?" she asked.

He scratched the back of his neck. "My wallet," he halted. Was he asking her for money? "It's in…my jacket…" He kept looking at her.

Meryl was confused until she looked down and realized she still had his jacket on from last night. "Oh, of course!" she blushed with realization as she shrugged the coat off. "I'm sorry, I just—"

As Meryl offered him the jacket, he reached for it almost timidly. "No, it's okay, I was just—" He pulled his jacket on and laughed a little to himself. This wasn't the manic, high pitched laugh Meryl was used to, though. It was a sound she had never heard him make before. It sounded…natural. It caused her to look at him, and she was surprised to see a small smile on his face. He seemed to be amused at the sheer awkwardness of the situation, or at least feel foolish that they were behaving this way around each other, and when he looked at her, she could see that there was a humorous glint in his eyes. This only made her smile, which caused her to try to stifle a laugh as well.

Now it was silent again, but instead of the awkwardness before, they were actually acknowledging each others' presence. In this moment, he wasn't driven or desperate and she wasn't pushy or enabling. They were just together, with no roles to fill, and they didn't quite know how to act around each other.

"I'm…a" he pointed at the door, "going to go." He turned, but abruptly stopped and looked at her seriously. "I'm coming back, though." He looked around the room. "See…I'm…leaving my bag here, so don't worry…or anything…"

Meryl was completely surprised by this. "Oh. Okay…of course! I'll…um…be here, I guess…" She smiled at him, and he smiled back. He held her gaze a few more moments, then finally left the room.

Meryl let out a deep breath. That had been interesting… He had never bothered to try to reassure her before. And just what had come over her? Why was she being so shy around Vash all of a sudden? And why was he being so unsure of himself around her? She sat in a pleasant daze as she thoughtlessly sipped at her coffee. It wasn't that she hadn't felt this way around him before, but usually it was in situations where he wasn't really paying attention to her. He was either catatonic or comatose or suicidally depressed or unbelievably drunk or half-asleep…or half-dead.

This was a change, and it was…nice. It was…fun. And it was…completely ridiculous! Meryl felt so silly thinking all these thoughts. She felt…giddy…and that wasn't a feeling she was accustomed to having! She hadn't felt like this in what seemed like ages. She looked over at his bag and caught herself smiling. She actually allowed herself to entertain the thought that he might ask her to go back to the ship with him.

She felt…really happy. Meryl downed the last of the coffee in uncharacteristic haste, then practically skipped into the bathroom to take a quick shower. She tried to caution herself against getting too excited, but she couldn't help it.

* * *

For his part, Vash was feeling quite dopey as well. He hadn't acted like that in front of Meryl ever. It was hard to deny, however, that he was in New Oregon for any other reason besides her. He hadn't ever been quite so transparent about his motives before. But maybe this was the start of something new. He felt pretty good about life at the moment, which was a needed change from the last few months. And he didn't have anything hanging over his head, no burden to carry, no apocalypse to single-handedly prevent. This was weird, and it was nice. He almost felt like he could characterize his present state as being "normal."

He hopped down the front steps of the saloon and walked over to a bakery across the street, almost in a daze. As he was waiting in line to make his purchase, he looked out the front window and watched the people on the street. Since the sand steamer was leaving so early this morning, the town was already bustling with activity. For once, watching everyone going about their business didn't leave him with a sinking feeling of isolation. He could be like them.

He…was like them…

Vash noticed the girl from last night, Susan, walk out of the saloon towards the bakery. He suddenly turned and faced the counter. After a moment, he heard the bell on the front door ring and noticed the atmosphere in the little shop grew a bit heavy. Even though the baker was helping another customer, he was watching Vash. He suddenly realized the customer who had just walked in was a federal marshal. When the man put a firm hand on Vash's shoulder, while expertly removing Vash's gun from his holster at the same time, he realized the marshal wasn't a customer at all.

The officer briefly patted Vash down looking for weapons. "Sir, please step outside," the marshal directed. Vash looked back over his shoulder and saw that the marshal had Vash's gun trained on him.

With a sinking sense of despair, Vash felt everything he had been hoping for had been ripped away from him. It really had been too good to be true. Just as his life seemed to be taking new shape, his past had to catch up with him. It didn't matter if he felt like he belonged or not, really. It didn't change what he had done or what others thought of him. Thousands of people were in July the day he blew it off the map. Whether or not he had meant to do it was beside the point. They were still dead and someone had to answer for those deaths. He hadn't been paying attention, too caught up in the warm fuzzies he was completely unaccustomed to feeling that he hadn't even noticed what was going on around him.

As he was led outside, Vash made eye contact with Susan, but she quickly turned away. His previous feelings of good will were being replaced with the hopelessness and self-loathing he was used to. The marshal told her to follow, and she fell in step with the men. Vash was led to a small jailhouse not too far away, where what seemed like a small army of federal agents was stationed. They had finally caught up with him. He wasn't paying attention and he got nabbed. He was pushed towards a desk where an officer of higher rank sat. The man looked at the girl. "This here the one? You find them 'identifying markers' on his person?"

Susan stepped forward, not looking at Vash. "Yes," she said loudly. "This man has identifying marks that match the description of the suspect." She looked nervous.

"Thankee miss for yer testimony. You may see Officer Wallace about the reward." This threw Vash for a loop. The bounty on his head had been removed since he blew a hole in the moon. He barely noticed when the man made a signal. Before Vash knew it, three men rushed him from the front as he felt a heavy mass surround his neck from behind. One of the men bolted the thing shut. Another man caught his hands in shackles. In a few moments, his ankles were shackled together as well. "Young man," the senior officer started, "you are hereby under arrest for participating in Vash the Stampede's gang, Ericks Saverem."

_Ericks Saverem?_ That name alone was enough to sidetrack his spiral back into hopelessness.

"Officer," Vash started, honestly befuddled, "what are you talking about?"

The officer looked completely unperturbed. "Now son, don't try to talk your way out of this one. We have eye-witness reports that you were present and participated in gang activity in," the officer paused for a moment and snapped his fingers. "Now what in _tarnation_ was that town called…" he said to himself as he looked through some paperwork on his desk. Finally, he stopped looking. "Well, the name has gotten away from me at the moment…might not even be an official town, persay…" he trailed off. "But there are eye-witness accounts of a heavily scared man stripping down right outside the saloon there and acting like a hound dog." He sat back in his chair. "There is a fake arm, which you have…a grate on the chest, which you have…and I am assuming a drinking problem, since no man in his right mind would take off all his clothing, _outside,_ and act like a dog…"

This still didn't make any sense to Vash. "But how does all this amount to an arrest?"

The officer sighed. "Young man, what we have here is a series of coincidences. It is a _coincidence_ that this young man, matching your description I might add, walked into that nowhere town where Vash the Stampede was apparently terrorizing locals. It is a _coincidence_ that this young man was involved in a gang kidnapping, and then _walked out of town calling himself The Stampede. _Personally I don't understand that bit, but that's what people have told us. And finally, it is a _coincidence_ that The Stampede showed up around these parts a few months ago and got mixed up with a local feud, and several folks around here swear that you bear an _uncanny resemblance_ to this man." The officer looked at Vash. "Now, I can't say for sure what your racket is, and I don't know how you are involved with The Stampede, but the facts is the facts, and what we have here is a series of _coincidences_ that lead me to believe that incarcerating you is not a bad idea. The higher-ups think you might know something about the outlaw. Hell, folks round here think you _are_ The Stampede, but I figure that devil would be a might harder to get our hands on, don't you think?"

Vash didn't answer.

"Anyhow," the officer continued, "We have a good number of folks who have an interest in The Stampede's whereabouts. Now, I'll tell you one thing: since they took that bounty off his head, the case has been _quite a bit _easier to handle. We don't have the crazies coming out of the woodwork looking for a cut. But just because the bounty was dropped does not mean the law is null and void! The Stampede must still stand trial for what has been done! Don't think that money is the only thing that makes the world go round, no siree." The officer was talking to himself at this point. Vash wasn't paying attention anymore.

The officer gave orders to load Vash up on the steamer under maximum security. He was under the impression that the bureau in December would be better able to confirm the identity of his suspect. Vash allowed himself to be led away towards the sand steamer.

* * *

Meryl was getting a little anxious. She knew Vash was going to come back, but it was possible that between donuts and neighborhood kids, he had gotten himself sidetracked. She went ahead and packed everything, including his bag, in her suitcase. She walked downstairs and returned the key to her room. She heard a lot of commotion outside, but tried not to let it ruin her good mood. She figured it was related to the sand steamer: people trying to purchase a last-minute ticket.

She pulled her suitcase with her as she went across the street to check the bakery. If he was going to be anywhere, he would be there. She pushed the door open and didn't see him. She almost turned around, but the conversation in the shop caught her attention. There had been an arrest made in there.

Her heart nearly fell out of her chest. Without thinking, she pushed her way up to the counter. "Who got arrested this morning?" she demanded.

The baker looked at her with apprehension, but answered her question. "A tall guy, lanky fellow. He seemed nice enough, but a marshal came right in here and took him right out." The shop keeper looked around. "Now I don't want to be starting any rumors here, but they say that man might be _The Stampede_."

Meryl was shocked. Vash had gotten arrested? How had this happened? There wasn't even a bounty on his head anymore! She ran outside and made her way to the jailhouse just in time to see Vash being led outside, surrounded by solidiers. He had one of the same collars that the slavers had used. They were leading him toward, the sand steamer.

Just then, he made eye contact with her. He didn't try to mouth anything or send her a message. He just stopped for a moment and looked at her. He had that half-dead look in his eyes again. Finally an impatient soldier nudged him along and he soullessly complied.

There was no way this was happening. Her mind wouldn't let her feel the situation. She felt herself compose herself and force only logical thoughts. Meryl was going to have to figure out a way to get him out of this.

But he was in federal custody! And she only had about an hour before the steamer left for December!

She was going to have to work fast.


	23. chapter 23

A/N: hello to everyone who has read this recently! i'm glad people are still interested in reading this story! so i figured i would update again!

* * *

Meryl automatically slipped into "Insurance Investigator" mode.

What was her goal?

What were the benefits of achieving this goal?

What were the costs of achieving this goal?

What were the steps she would have to take to achieve this goal while minimizing costs and maximizing benefits?

The goal was obviously to get Vash out of federal custody without sacrificing herself in the process. She couldn't think about individual benefits, since the very thought of him being taken to federal headquarters and being held accountable for the things his brother had forced upon him triggered strong and involuntary emotional reactions of anger and helplessness.

She decided that all she could do was take it for granted that the benefits outweighed the costs. These included having an innocent man take the blame for situations which were beyond his control, having the guilt of not doing anything to save him when she had an opportunity to do so, losing her job, being taken into custody herself as an accomplice, being charged with treason for withholding identifying information regarding Vash, losing her standing at her job, and losing a compatriot, friend, and whatever else they had recently become…

This tactic…just…wasn't going to work.

When she had to fight off a second bought of emotions, she realized how foolish it was to be running a cost/benefit analysis on the situation. It was what she was used to, but it was also completely and utterly unfit for dealing with this situation. This was Vash she was talking about! She was going to save him, and she couldn't bother with costs and benefits because there was nothing else she could allow herself to do. This didn't even seem like something she had the right to choose to do. She found herself _compelled _to act.

This went completely against her nature as an insurance agent and as an individual, but there was no other way to deal with the situation. Failure was not an option, so whatever it was she decided, she was going to have to throw much of her risk-aversion to the wind and just go with it. She was in no way interested in courting disaster, but she had to be committed one hundred percent to the task at hand and proceed as though success was the only possible outcome.

Meryl had never done something so rash in her life, and she didn't even have Milly to cover her. She had done brazen things before, but always with the support of her junior partner. This was brand new territory, and there was no way she could use her position as an insurance agent to attempt to finesse this into a slightly more legal situation. She was going to have to risk her job, her good name, and quite possibly her life.

Meryl knew she didn't have long: forty-five minutes tops. She would have to disguise herself, get onto the sand steamer, and find where they were keeping Vash, all while being as nonthreatening and unmemorable as possible.

She walked toward the sand steamer, looking around as she went. All the shops along the main street were open to take advantage of the presence of caravan drivers and foreign passengers loading up on supplies. Cash wasn't an issue, since she had been rewarded handsomely for her part in yesterday's rescue. She just needed a plan.

Meryl saw all kinds of people: gruff business men, laughing children, statuesque women, sleepy adolescents. She scanned the crowd for some sort of indication as to how to proceed. As she walked past a group of men talking, she overheard parts of their conversations.

"…heard he had two girls at the same saloon. That guy has got to be…"

"…wouldn't give to have just five minutes alone with that guy. When July…I'd just like to give him half the pain he…"

"…can't believe that he seemed so friendly. That bastard probably duped everyone in July, too. The devil, that's how he got so close…"

"…short girl, yeah with black hair. She probably knows something she's not letting…"

Startled by hearing about herself in the rumors, Meryl walked more quickly down the street. She ducked into the first clothing shop she came to. She was going to have to ditch her clothes. Everyone at the bar saw her uniform yesterday. If it wasn't by her height, they could identify her by her unique outfit alone. She walked up to the man running the store.

"Good morning! What can I do you for today, miss?"

Meryl looked around. "I need…something…the opposite of what I'm wearing now, and fast."

The man frowned thoughtfully as he sized her up. "Well, let's see. You're quite petit. I don't think I have anything off the rack that will fit you…" He walked to a rack with dresses and looked hanger by hanger at his inventory. Meryl started grinding her teeth, willing him to look faster. "Ahh…this one might work, if you lace it up good and tight. It has a corset, I hope you don't mind. And it's not the most fashionable color…it's from last year, in fact. And it's a little too long for you. I'll have to hem it up a bit."

Meryl barely noticed the plain gray color of the dress. "No time. I am about to leave on the—"

The man nodded, "Oh yes, the steamer is leaving this morning. Well, a crinoline would probably help with the length, and I have some shoes over there which might give you a bit more height."

Meryl shook her head. "Fine. Is there somewhere where I can change?"

The man looked at her questioningly. "I…have changing rooms in the back." He pulled a crinoline from the rack as well and handed the clothing over to her. "Think you can manage the corset yourself?"

"I'll be fine," she said as she walked towards the shoe rack, quickly located her size, and picked out the highest heeled ankle boots on the shelf. She then made her way back to the changing room.

Getting out of her clothes was a lot easier than getting into the new ones, but she managed. She fished her belt with the tools from yesterday out of her bag and fastened it around her upper thigh. She packed all of her old clothes into her suitcase, then shimmied into the crinoline. The dress laced up in the back and she tried to pull the thing closed herself, but actually did have to ask the man to finish lacing the dress for her. She put the shoes on and was about to pay and leave when the man stopped her.

"You're not even going to look at yourself before you buy?" He was smiling. This was definitely a very serious young lady.

Meryl turned around and was about to tell him she didn't have time for it, but caught a glimpse in the mirror and it made her stop. She had become so accustomed to loose blouses and draping mantles that she was surprised at how small she looked. The corset, the length of the dress, and the boots gave the illusion that she was even thinner than she actually was. And the corset gave her a semblance of cleavage. All in all, the image she was seeing was very foreign for her eyes. She looked like a completely different person and more than a little self-conscious.

The man interrupted her thoughts. "Might I make a suggestion?"

"Y…yes," she stuttered.

He pulled a small velvet box from the counter. "I think maybe some silver-toned jewelry would be more suited to this color." He opened the box to reveal two silver studs.

She looked in the mirror and touched her earrings. She never really took them off, but because of this, it was possible that someone from yesterday might see them and recognize her… She took them off as the man handed her the studs. Meryl put them in. They were almost too small to see. She pushed her bangs back and stopped.

With her hair up and with the dress, she looked like an unspecifiably young adolescent trying to pass as an older adult. She had been aimed for nonthreatening, but with her hair pulled back, she looked downright meek.

"Sir, you wouldn't happen to have any hair pins, would you?"

"Yes," he said as he looked around the counter, "as a matter of fact…here we are!" He handed her a few hair pins. She took them and pushed a few through her bangs to keep them from falling in her face. Once she had the hair secured, she pushed a few more in, just in case. These things came in handy.

She turned around and looked at the man. "How much do I owe you?"

He laughed as he walked to the register. "My, you make decisions quickly. Most girls come in and spend over an hour deciding what to wear. You've been in here for less than fifteen minutes." He punched some buttons. "Alright, you owe me $$220."

Meryl retrieved the cash from the front pocket of her suitcase and handed it to the man. "Thank you very much!" she said as she walked out of the store, her pink suitcase trailing behind her.

When she got out onto the street, she thought that she might have made a mistake. Instead of going unnoticed, it seemed that people were paying even more attention than normal. It was possible, however, that this was only because she was now directly in their line of sight, and possibly because she felt slightly uneasy in the dress. She made her way to the steamer ticket office, hoping that something was still available. She started to push through the small crowd, but wasn't used to wearing such wide clothing. The crinoline pushed up against the legs of the people in front of her and she found herself half-embarrassed and apologizing. She waited more or less patiently and was at the ticket window in a matter of minutes.

When she got to the front of the line, she pounded her fist on the counter out of habit. "What do you have available?!" she nearly shouted.

He didn't even look at her. "Sorry miss. We're sold out. Next!"

Meryl pulled out a $$100 note and pushed it toward toward the man. "What do you have available?" she said again with determination.

The man looked at the note, then looked at her, and was a little taken aback, but he regained his gruff composure quickly. "We're all sold out of first and third class tickets. If you want to ride, you'll have to take second."

"How much?" she demanded.

"$$300. Don't even try to hagg—" Before he even finished his potential bluff, she had the cash out on the counter, surprising the man considerably. At $$400, Meryl knew she was paying an astronomical amount for a ticket which should have been somewhere closer to $$150, but she didn't have the luxury of spending time to argue with the man. Plus, between her stipend and her reward money, this was something she could afford. The man quickly wrote up her receipt and handed her the ticket. She turned and with a "Thanks," walked toward the steamer.

She had about twenty five minutes to get on the ship, but she still hadn't _actually_ devised a plan. She pulled her luggage out of the middle of the road and stood outside a shop to gather her thoughts. For a moment, she listened to the people as they walked by. A group of soldiers passed and she caught one of them saying something about being assigned to a prisoner on board the steamer. She instantly trained her ear on them and followed a few yars behind.

"Sounds like we've got ourselves a problem. How are we supposed to keep this guy under wraps?" one asked apprehensively.

"They say he's got the devil's luck," another added for good measure.

"Sounds like we've got ourselves a golden financial opportunity if you ask me," a tall soldier replied.

"What do you mean by that? We'll be lucky if we get out of this assignment alive."

"This guy can't be the Stampede. The whole planet has been gunning for him for years and we've never even come close to apprehending him. Today we _easily_ pick up a guy, he doesn't struggle, he doesn't argue, and he doesn't fight. Plus, he's way too young. He looks to be about in his twenties. There's no way he would even be big enough to hold a weapon at the time July was destroyed."

"So you're saying he's innocent."

"Absolutely not. No man who is innocent is going to let himself be arrested without a fight. You know how they are: 'I'M INNOCENT! YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG GUY! LET ME OUT OF HERE!' They're a pain in the ass!"

"So you're saying he's guilty."

"Definitely guilty of something. But you've all heard the stories. Vash the Stampede is a cold-blooded and ruthless killer. He's not going to let himself be arrested that easily."

"Maybe he's planning to take over the sand steamer! And kill everyone on board! Ever thought about that?!"

"Nah, it's impossible. We've got him fitted with a choke cuff. Even if he got out of the holding cell, he wouldn't get too much further without suffocating. Plus, I talked to the girl who identified him. Even she had a hard time believing that this guy was in any way involved with a killer."

"She took the reward money, though!" At that, a few laughed.

"Boys, that is _exactly_ my point!" The soldier looked around and Meryl quickly looked interested in a stand selling fresh fruit. He started to talk more quietly. "Everyone _thinks_ this is the Stampede, right? And everyone _thinks_ this guy was involved with what happened in July, right? The rumor that he's on the steamer has spread like wildfire, and I've already heard people saying they would _pay_ to get a few minutes alone with him. And we'll be in charge of security. Catch my drift?"

There was a silent moment of understanding among the group.

"What…if…something happens to him?"

"Like I said, he is guilty as sin about something, so whether or not he is the Stampede, I'll have a clear conscience."

They were close to the loading entrance by now. Meryl hung back and watched the men check in for duty with a superior officer. She was scared and angry. They were actually going to let people hurt Vash for money. She had to admit, however, that this was a fortunate turn of events for her. It meant that getting access to Vash wouldn't necessitate her sliding through ventilation shafts with no clue as to what she was doing. She would just have to find him fast.

Now she had a plan and an identity. Her father and her brother were both killed in the Stampede's ruthless destruction of July. She wanted to see the man who could kill so many people and destroy so many lives and look him eye to eye.

Meryl had about fifteen minutes before she had to board the steamer. She opened her suitcase and stuck her hand in Vash's bag looking for…a-ha! With the objects in hand, she scanned the street for a hardware shop. As soon as she saw one, she made a bee line for it. She had seen this a few times before and hoped it would give her a little much-needed credibility.

* * *

A/N: and there you have it. REVIEWS! i love them!


	24. chapter 24

A/N: Okay, this chapter was supposed to be twice as long, but I decided to break it in half

for length purposes. The next half will be posted soon.f

Also, THANKS EVERYONE WHO IS REVIEWING AND FAVORITING! I'm glad there are so many people who are still interested in the fandom! GO TRIGUN! :)

* * *

He had been conscious for several hours. It had to be some time in the early afternoon. Something was definitely not right. He was exhausted and there was a dull ache in his temple, but the details of last night remained hazy.

He knew he was alone, and this somehow left him feeling more unsettled than the alternative. There was no one here to wait on him. There was no one in the outer chasing after him. No one was calling for his demise. No one was aching to string him up and watch him die. There was no bounty on his head, regardless of the countless crimes he had committed. There were no restraints binding him, no locks holding him, no experiments or vivisections planned or taking place, there were no angry mobs or greedy scientists. There were no faithful, self-loathing servants wishing for him to deliver them from the tainted human existences which they led. No one asked anything of him. No one expected anything from him.

He was free.

He was free: completely, horribly, and terribly free. Despite everything he had done, despite his hand in deciding the fate of every single individual on the planet, he was virtually unknown to the population of Gunsmoke, and this thought left him feeling defeated and guilt-ridden. No, it wasn't that he had been cruel to the humans. He honestly did not see any problem with continuing to judge them on a mass scale, making exceptions only for certain individuals. And it wasn't that he had killed. Killing was necessary for self-preservation.

It was the fact that his brother, his twin, the person closest and dearest to him, the reason for everything he had ever done, was anything but free. He could only vaguely recall bits and pieces of what had happened the night before, but the experience of being around people who in turns trusted and abhorred his brother had been bizarre. And Vash had been living like this since July… Didn't Vash ever think about the possibility that his supposed friends could easily stab him in the back for the bounty on his head? How could he not think about it all the time?

He stopped himself. There was a crushing sadness lurking just behind his eyes and he was slightly terrified to delve into the sensation for fear of what he would find. If he'd thought about it, he might have been able to determine whether the emotion was originating from him or whether it was merely being broadcast through the recently reopened telepathic link by his sibling. He didn't think about it, though. Taking a page from Vash's book ("Coping with Things I'd Rather Not Face Right Now [Without Developing Full-Blown Amnesia]," working title, of course…), and feeling every bit the hypocrite, he tried very hard not to think about anything at all.

The knock on the door was quiet, but cut sharply through his meditation, and Knives quickly made for the door. He justified his eagerness at the prospect of company with the fact that he needed some distraction from his thoughts. Reflexively, a hum of claustrophobic apprehension swelled in him as he reached for the mechanism which controlled the entrance, but dissipated after he heard the control mechanism quietly whir to life.

He first noticed the clear blue eyes of the tall girl standing outside. She looked worried, as if she felt out of place. But after he didn't say anything, she began to look worried _for him_. She didn't look at him with hatred or with anger or with any of the other destructive expressions he imagined to see in the eyes of a human. She wasn't even looking at him with pity in her eyes. It was almost as if she were actually _concerned for his wellbeing_. This was something he found extraordinarily hard to believe. Yes, this was Vash's follower, and no, she had never betrayed his brother or done anything to hurt him personally, but Knives knew she was just here to watch over him in his brother's absence. The idea that she would come here and actually _care_…

Humans didn't care about anything but themselves.

Knives suddenly found he was overcome with anger towards her. The idea of snapping her neck and calmly returning to his room fleetingly crossed his mind, but it seemed more out of habitual thought processes than actual desires. Being so mad at her made very little sense to him, so instead of confronting her, or screaming irrational obscenities in her general direction, or resorting to physical violence, he turned around sharply, sat down in the living area, and closed his eyes. He rubbed his throbbing temples to try to soothe the pain in his head.

Had she said something? "…the medicine on the counter? I left it in case…" Had she been talking the entire time? By the time he looked up, she was standing in front of him and holding out a glass of water and two white pills. She still had that look of concern on her face.

He took the glass and the pills from her, quietly and gently, but he was still filled with contempt, both because she was there at all and because he found himself automatically trusting that she wasn't actually trying to poison him. "Don't you usually bother me earlier than this?" he hissed.

"I…" Milly looked down, a bit confused. Knives took the opportunity to swallow the pills along with a few gulps of water. She looked at him again. "I thought you would want to be alone," she finally said.

"Of course you did, human." Knives had meant to sound cold and in control, but his words came out full of tired resignation.

"I…can leave…" she offered.

He closed his eyes as he felt a tremor of fear and loneliness shake his heart. So _that _was it. Knives realized that somehow she had acquired some control over him. He didn't know when it started, but he actually did like the idea of someone caring about his wellbeing. But how could that be the case? She was a human, and she was intimately aware of the things he was responsible for. Her presence was somehow familiar, though, and he had to admit to himself that he liked it when she was around.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back into his chair. "Do whatever you want," he said flatly, determined not to give up another inch of ground to this human.

He couldn't see her, but he could feel her looking at him. Maybe she was waiting for him to say something. He didn't. "Okay," she started, "well, if you need anything, I'll be on Deck 5 with Lil." He heard her move towards the door. "And the Doc has been working in the engine room." She waited a moment more before activating the door. "Okay, see you later, Mr. Knives..."

When he heard the door close, he opened his eyes. He was alone in the SEEDS unit, surrounded by people, and his brother was hundreds of iles away. What the hell was he doing here?

* * *

Meryl was in the lower decks of the sandsteamer. The nightly banquet held in the Grand Hall for the first class passengers had been underway for about two hours now. Everybody who was anybody was either mingling at the dinner or wasting money at the casino. As she made her descent into the ship, she noticed that most of the second class passengers were holed up in their rooms that amounted to little more than glorified closets.

She made her way to the lower decks, pulling her suitcase behind her. These levels were completely devoid of the festive atmosphere found up above. The lighting was dim and the air was stale. Third and fourth class passengers littered the walkways, leaning on the walls and each other in order to find some kind of comfort. Before she began walking down the lower hall, she grabbed a rough burlap blanket off the top of a stack of the musty things and wrapped it around her body, hiding her face and covering her clothes. This was the only amenity the sandsteamers afforded their lower class patrons, and she didn't want to draw any unneeded attention to herself through her appearance.

A man in fashionable clothing approached from down the hall, cradling his right fist tenderly with his other hand. He took no notice of her as he passed her by, but she easily could tell by his appearance that he did not belong among the third and fourth class passengers. She noticed that the knuckles of his right hand appeared to be bleeding. She set her jaw and kept moving forward.

Vash _really_ owed her this time. She had dealt with entirely too much sexual harassment during this ordeal. And considering she was trying to blend in, her temper and, dare she say, _standards of decorum_, had nearly blown her cover several times. She had to tolerate a junior engine technician's delusions of grandeur to get close to some schematics of the ship. She hadn't realized how complicated the plans would be, but luckily for her, the man liked to talk. A lot. And the more questions she asked, the more information she got.

The only problem with playing dumb was that it was a lot harder than it looked. She had to keep in mind that leading questions were fine, but focused questions, like, say, "So, if the ventilation shaft dead-ends at this point on the lower deck, how do the engineers make sure the hull doesn't overheat? The overflow must be directed to an upper or lower level, right?" or, "Are blasts from the furnace constantly flowing through this duct or are there times when it is not used?" would result in a raised eyebrow from the technician. The only way to smooth over situations like that were to ask again about what it was that he did and fawn over how hard and important his job must be. It was almost like she wasn't supposed to express interest in the subject, but still find what he was saying fascinating just because he was saying it…

'Flattery, Meryl,' she had to cynically reminded herself. 'Just stick with the flattery."

That situation had proven a bit tricky to get out of. Thinking the lady before him to be a very young debutante who could possibly be his golden ticket to a higher rank, the young man was far too interested in pursuing Meryl. He insisted that he walk her back to her room.

"There are dangerous men on this steamer, you know…downstairs is where they keep 'em," he had whispered conspiratorially in an obvious attempt at scaring her. "I hear they even have the Devil's Helper himself aboard this ship tonight. But," he paused dramatically, "you never know what could happen with that. He might escape… Better to play it safe, don't you think?"

She laughed a little to her self when she recalled that line. Playing it safe was the last thing on Meryl's mind. And as for the Stampede escaping? She was the one intending to get him out! What would her mother think?

Anyway, he had been called back to work as Meryl's patience began to vanish. She looked into his eyes, her voice full of feigned regret, and promised to meet him after his shift was over in the steamer's saloon.

She sighed at the memory, relieved that the young man wouldn't even be through with his shift for another hour and a half. That meant that no one on the entire steamer would be interested in finding her at the moment. By the way her suitcase was rolling, she could tell the path she was taking was steadily sloping downward. From what she remembered of the schematics, she was slowly approaching the furnaces and the plant bulb deep within the center of the ship. According to her paramour, this was the most secluded and secure section of the ship.

She approached a corner, but just as she was about to round it, three federal officers turned down the hall. All four of them stopped. The officers looked at her suspiciously.

"What are you doing down here, miss?" one of the men asked.

Meryl nerves ignited with anxiety, but she managed to finally stutter out a sentence. "R-r-r-r-…I'm looking for the restroom! You wouldn't happen to know where the ladies room is, would you?"

The men did not relax. "You're going the wrong way, miss." One of them pointed her in the "right" direction.

"You looking for that damned idiot who just took off?" a soldier asked.

"N-no!" Meryl insisted, but the man looked skeptical.

"Sure…" he said sarcastically as he looked her over. "You clean up too nice. This isn't the deck you're assigned to, is it young lady?" His voice changed to a bit of a paternal tone.

Meryl was unsure of what to say. "No, it isn't," she finally decided on.

The soldier smiled to himself, satisfied that he had sussed out her lie. Then his face took on a grave expression. "Well, when you see your friend again…tell him it's no wonder he broke his hand and it ain't nobody's fault but his own. Trying to punch like that…You'd think he'd never been in a fight in his whole life!" The soldier shook his head. "If he wants to get his daddy to try to press charges, tell him to go for it."

It took Meryl a moment, but she remembered the man she had passed, the one holding his bloody hand. The soldier had obviously linked the two of them together.

"I…I will tell him!" Meryl said a little more nervously than she meant to. "Okay, goodnight!" she said quickly as she walked towards the restroom. The men waited for a moment, but she kept going straight and the men didn't stop her. Eventually they passed by.

Once she was inside the empty restroom, she looked for a stall with a vent over it. Locating one, she rolled her suitcase inside and promptly got to work. If she was right, this vent was connected to all the other vents on the deck. The plan was to stow the suitcase in the ceiling so that they could swing back around for it once she had located Vash. She lifted her skirt and unstrapped the multi-tool she had secured to her thigh. She had gotten it from the guys yesterday at the slaver complex. She located and pulled out a screw driver.

Meryl stood on the toilet, but she wasn't nearly tall enough to reach to the ceiling. Quickly, she rethought her plan and pulled out Vash's black bag and began stuffing as many of her belongings as she could inside it. She put her beloved suitcase on top of the toilet. If she stood on her toes, she could just barely reach the screws of the vent. She unscrewed one side and the panel swung down. She climbed off of her suitcase and picked up the black bag. She nearly fell over a few times, but she managed to stuff the thing inside the vent. Then she screwed the panel back into place and climbed down.

Now she turned her attention to the pink suitcase. She gave it a once-over, looking for any identifying tags or name plates on the bag. Satisfied that it didn't have anything directly linking it to one Meryl Stryfe, she found a dark corner and stashed it, most likely never to see it again.

Now, Meryl was not a sentimental woman, but she did feel a little sadness at parting with this bag.

Recounting all the places she'd been and the way she could perfectly clip on her typewriter (which was no longer in existence, either) on top of it, she made her way out of the restroom and toward her destination.

When she got to the makeshift "dungeon," she saw a lone federal soldier keeping watch. He was leaning against the wall, out of boredom, tiredness, or both. When he saw her approaching, however, he straightened up very quickly. "Miss, can I help you?"

It was now time for the act. "Is he here?"

The soldier looked a little taken aback. "Who do you mean, miss?"

"The Devil's Helper, the Humanoid Typhoon, the murderer of every single human in July," Meryl stated flatly. She couldn't help but feel her chin quiver uncontrollably, though. It was terrible speaking about Vash in these terms.

The soldier picked up on the chin quiver and quickly misinterpreted. "Miss, I can't let you…he's too dangerous."

Bingo. "This man. I have to see him. I have to look into the eyes of the man who killed both of my parents!" she ended on a shout. "I just want five minutes. I just want to see the eyes of such a killer." Meryl was actually shaking at this point, out of anticipation or something else, she didn't know.

"I…I'm sorry miss. I can't let you. It's too dangerous. The man is unpredictable, even if he is injured and chained up. I am sorry."

Meryl was slightly horrified at this point. She was so close, and she didn't know if she could incapacitate this man with the tools at her disposal. However, all was not lost. She would just have to go back to the restroom and climb through the vents herself, trying to find the cell they were keeping Vash in. She pushed the thought out of her mind, though, as she fished her hardware purchase out of a small pocket in her dress. "Can you do me a favor, sir?"

The man gulped. "I can try."

She handed the two small objects to the man. "If it happens that this man is put to the death he deserves, and that death is by firing squad, could you please use these?"

The man looked down and saw two rifle shells, both of them engraved with names: John and Lillian.

"He," Meryl started, but was surprised to find she was crying in earnest. "He killed my parents. If I can't see him, then please do your best."

The soldier was at a complete loss. Holding these two bullets, beautifully engraved, and watching the young woman in front of him cry, his emotions beat out his better judgment. He looked around, then he picked up his keys and began to unlock the door.

"You've got five minutes. The other soldiers will be back soon with a medic, so don't waste any time."

As she pushed the door open, Meryl sighed with relief and tried not to let the smile she was feeling show on her face…

* * *

More to come...


	25. chapter 25

Through a haze of pain and dizziness, he noticed the door open slowly. They had looked him over and said something about a medic being needed, so he hoped the open door signaled the arrival of much needed medical attention. Truth be told, however, much of the blood that had soaked into his shirt was that of hapless attackers who either weren't expecting the metal implants in his body or weren't listening to the warnings of the officers charging admission.

The door opened and the sniffling coming from the young girl behind it dashed all his hopes of relief. He didn't know if he could withstand much more abuse and maintain consciousness.

Of course, with everything he was responsible for, all the deaths he had caused and all the pain he had unleashed, survival didn't seem all that crucial. His brother was safe, his friends were safe. There was nothing left for him to do. Maybe he had a concussion and wasn't thinking straight, but maybe he was thinking straight for the first time in his lfe. He couldn't tell for sure…

He wasn't innocent. He knew that. And these people deserved some retribution for all the suffering they had experienced. At this moment, though, he was considering how attractive the idea of losing consciousness and never again waking up was becoming.

Vash had his hands and ankles bound while a choking collar was fastened snuggly around his throat, and the only reason he hadn't fallen over onto the floor was that he was sitting on a bench and leaning into a corner of the small, dingy, metallic room. It wasn't like there was much to hope for, after all. No one was going to be coming to rescue him. It would take a whole day for Meryl to get back to the SEEDs ship and let anyone know what was happening. Besides, no one was going to be coming to help a murderer.

There was absolutely no hope for escape: he was simply too beat up to even try getting out of this one. (Vash figured this had been part of the guards' plans: make a little money _and_ ensure that this could-be Humanoid Typhoon was in no shape to attempt an escape.) He hadn't had any water in what felt like ages, and without water, his body could not regenerate as it usually did. He was a plant, after all…

As the guard said something to the crying girl and closed the door, Vash's heart sank. He couldn't hear too well because of the ringing in his ears, but he was pretty sure that he had caused the death of someone who was very close to this girl. It was the story he had heard over and over since he'd boarded this steamer: he was the cause of misery. Misery and pain: that's what he brought to every person he had ever met, and thousands he would never know. He was the harbinger of everything that was bad and wrong in this world.

The girl took a step closer as she continued to cry.

---

Meryl was speechless. She had expected bad… Scratch that. It really wasn't the truth. Vash never got caught! He could find a way out of the worst situations imaginable! The idea of Vash being bound and beaten seemed very foreign to her. In reality, Meryl had expected Vash to be absolutely fine, maybe with some cuts and bruises here and there, but more or less unscathed. She had expected him to look up and act dumb, then admonish her about sticking her neck out for him, and then they would both get the hell out of Dodge, and then everything would be fine. For Meryl, getting to this point had been spectacularly easy. Getting out would be a whole different matter.

Before Meryl sat a savagely beaten man. She would have had a hard time recognizing him if she hadn't known it was him already. There was blood flowing freely from a wound at his temple. His hair was matted on one side with dried blood. She couldn't check for a concussion since one eye was completely swollen shut. He was bleeding from one of his ears. He had a busted lower lip, and bruising everywhere she could see. His clothes were saturated in the dark rust of dried blood.

Suddenly the gravity of the situation hit her. She was going to have to work fast and hope beyond hope that Vash had enough strength to get into the ventilation shaft. If he couldn't do that, they were both done for. She scrubbed at the tears on her cheek, then got to work.

---

Vash was full of apprehension. This was not a direct attack. The girl stood silently in front of him and watched him for a long moment, then began rubbing at her eyes. She moved quickly over to the bench, making him jump. Suddenly, she put one of her feet on the bench and began hiking up her skirt! The next thing he knew, the girl was pulling something shiny out of a leather pouch fastened to her thigh! Was it a gun?!

The first thing he thought was that he was done for: this girl was going to shoot him in the head. He tried to focus on the object and realized after a moment, however, that the girl was holding…a multi-tool... What was this girl going to do to him?!

---

Meryl moved quickly. As she pulled out a length of wire necessary to short the choking collar that was around Vash's neck with one hand, she plucked a bobby pin out of her hair with the other and handed it to Vash.

"Quick," she stated. "You work on the cuffs. I'll get the collar."

Vash didn't move.

Meryl stopped and looked at him. "What are you waiting for?" she demanded impatiently.

Vash seemed confused. "…Meryl?"

"…yes?"

Vash's entire demeanor changed in an instant. He seemed almost…angry… "What are you doing here?" he demanded. Though his features were swollen and bruised, the expression on his face could be accurately interpreted as livid.

Quietly, and with some anger, she whispered, "I came to get you out of here, Vash! Now move! We don't have much time!" She moved towards him with her tools, but he quickly shrank away from her touch.

As he breathed in deeply, Meryl could see his whole chest move. He was in obvious pain. Both of his eyes were shut. "Why?" he whispered. "Why are you here to help me? You should be going back to December. That's where you need to be." Before, Vash's head was spinning with pain, but now he had anxiety to add to the mix. How could Meryl, of all people, think this was a good idea?

Meryl was a little taken aback. "Because…" Because we're friends? Because I love you? Because it's the right thing to do? "Because you'd do the same for me! Now I'm not going to let you get dragged off to prison for crimes you didn't commit. Now let's –"

"But I _did _commit them." His face was full of anger as he looked at her. "I _am_ a murderer. I've killed people. Lots of people. And you should leave." Vash seemed resigned to his fate.

"NO," Meryl stated defiantly. "I've…followed you for a long time! And I know you're a good person!" She had to remember to keep her voice down. "You're not a murderer! You were forced into hellish situations. You…you didn't have a choice…" Meryl finished weakly, realizing her arguments carried no weight under the current circumstances.

Vash wasn't convinced. "How can you possibly know?" He asked without any venom. "You've only followed me for three years tops." Vash stopped to take in a few labored breaths. "You weren't there. You don't know what these people went through because of me." He took a moment to think. "You were only…4 when I…destroyed July…" As Vash sighed, he seemed to deflate. "I deserve this. It really doesn't matter anymore. Just leave while you can."

Suddenly, the anger in Meryl reached a point where she couldn't contain it anymore. Automatically, she reeled her hand back in order to knock some sense into him. She noticed when he didn't even flinch. His face was all swollen with bruises and he was beaten to a bloody pulp, but he was just going to sit there and take more. For some reason, she began to shake as she staid her hand in mid air.

There was a silent, tense moment as Meryl took in the situation. "I'm done," she whispered quietly to herself as she calmly lowered her hand.

Vash gave her a confused look, waiting for her to elaborate. The idea that she might leave actually struck him and he was terrified. He didn't really want her to go! He didn't want to be stuck in this situation! But it seemed like it was for the best and that he had successfully chased her off again…

'You're absolutely right, Vash," she said coldly to him. "You have committed crimes, and you're right. You can't run from them forever. It's better to face the music than run from the truth."

Vash's heart felt like it was breaking a little, but he knew she was right.

"And," Meryl continued, standing very still in front of him, "I realize that there are things I must pay for as well."

"What?!" Vash squeaked, unprepared for the turn in the conversation.

"Well," Meryl continued, "let's see… I have boarded a sand steamer without providing proper identification papers, and bribed a steamer officer in order to do so. That, in and of itself, is a class C misdemeanor. I also boarded with the intent of breaking out a known threat to humanity." She paused for a moment. "That would be you. And that's a capital offense…especially since you are who everyone thinks you are."

She put her finger on her chin as she continued thoughtfully. "I have harbored and abetted a known fugitive for months without filing any reports to the Bernardelli Society or to the government. I have harbored and abetted his psychotic brother, a man who is ten times worse than anyone can even imagine about the Humanoid Typhoon. No one knows anything about his existence. I have kept identifying information out of my reports, information almost necessary to confirm that you are who everyone thinks you are. I have been doing it for years."

She stopped for a moment, but then continued with renewed anger. "And it might _only_ be three years that I have known you, but I probably know you better than any other _living_ human at the moment, so at the very least, the _authorities_ might be interested in me."

She gave Vash a moment to let all that sink in.

"And since you have so moved ne with your example, I, too, am going to surrender to the authorities for all the wrongs I have committed."

"NO!" Vash almost shouted. "You haven't done anything wrong!"

"But I just told you all the laws I have broken recently. _I have done many things wrong_," she reminded him.

Just then, the cell door opened. It was the guard from outside. Meryl was holding the pliers in her right hand, concealed from the view of the guard. To him, it looked like the young lady was simply having a very grave conversation with the prisoner. The guard, however, was taken aback at the prisoner's expression: the man looked absolutely terrified. He was looking straight at the girl, almost as if he were anticipating something truly horrible.

"Everything alright in here, miss?" he asked.

"I'm sorry sir," the girl addressed the guard, "but would it be possible to have two more minutes alone with the prisoner? I promise I will be as quick as possible."

The guard nodded dumbly. "Just knock on the door when you need out." _How strange_, he thought. The prisoner hadn't reacted at all to the brutal beatings he had been receiving all day, but he seemed terrified of that little girl. It always amazed him the things that could break a person…

---

Meryl turned back to Vash. "Now are you going to cooperate or not?" she demanded.

Vash nodded vigorously as he took the bobby pin she offered. He got to work as Meryl attempted to find the panel in the back of the neck collar. She felt around for it with shaky fingers, nervous that they were on such a short timetable. Finally, with her nail, she found the seam in the panel that needed to be pried off. She leaned Vash forward so she had some space to work. With the pliers, she bent the metal back enough to expose the two contacts needed to short out the collar. She brought her left hand over with the piece of wire needed and was about to strip the ends of the plastic casing surrounding the copper when she realized that Vash had stopped working on his cuffs.

And had stopped moving…altogether…

And she had her arms around him…

And she felt soft breath and stubble leaning into her cleavage…

Shocked with embarrassment, she pulled away quickly and Vash would have fallen over if she hadn't been bracing his shoulder against the wall with her hand. Though she was blushing furiously, she realized that he must have had a concussion and was about to lose consciousness. As gently as she could, she slapped his cheek to get him to come to. If he lost consciousness for good, they'd have no chance.

He came to quickly, but looked confused. "Where am I?" he asked dreamily. "What are you doing here? Where is Milly?"

"Come on! We're in trouble and we've got to get out of here!" she said quietly but frantically. This seemed to snap him into action. His hands worked almost automatically and he had his handcuffs and ankle braces undone before Meryl could even return to what she had been doing. Meryl was a bit awestruck: just how many times had he had to pick locks to get out of jail?

In short order, she had the choking collar off and was helping Vash to his feet. He was more agile than she had hoped, practically pulling her toward a ceiling panel which led to the ventilation system. She shimmied out of her crinoline and kicked it against the wall as he popped the panel out of place and climbed up. Meryl had thought she had to use a screw driver to remove the panels, but some must have been able to slide into place. He reached an arm down and caught hold of the bottom of her corset, unceremoniously yanking her into the ventilation shaft. She would have been angry under other circumstances, but at this point, she was just glad she didn't have much to readjust. Vash reached down for the panel and brought it back up, sliding it into place once again.

Vash pulled himself through the ventilation system silently and Meryl tried to do the same. He clearly had more experience, but she fit more comfortably into the tunnels, so it should have been easier for her to be quiet. All the same, it took a lot of concentration to slide silently down the vents behind him. As they came to a T-intersection in the shaft, Vash caught sight of his black bag and almost looked like he was reuniting with an old friend. He motioned for Meryl to stay where she was as he went to retrieve it, then they both made their way down the shaft in the other direction.

At this point, Meryl deferred to Vash. Even though he was obviously had some sort of head injury that was affecting his memory, he had a top-notch sense of direction. Meryl was alright when she wasn't inside a cramped tube, but at this point, all she knew was that they were going up ever so slowly, and that indicated that they were slowly approaching the outer hull.

After several tense minutes of silently traversing through the vents, they heard an alarm sounding in the hallways below them. The guards must have found Vash's cell, empty of everything except for cuffs, braces, and undergarments. They had to reach the hull quickly or they were done for. With his hand, Vash cautioned Meryl to not try to go faster and risk noise. They were being looked for right now, and the last thing they needed was for someone to start shooting out the ventilation shafts.

Suddenly, Meryl felt a stronger draft pulling air past her. As they continued to crawl through the tight space, the metal beneath her hands changed to a thicker, rusty metal. Finally they came to a dead-end. A propeller-like fan was violently pulling air from the vents and outside into the desert! Before Meryl could let any fear set in about whether or not they were going to get out of this one, Vash was already pulling the grating that separated them from the fan and had started kicking out the supports that held the fan in place. With one final well-placed kick, the fan separated from the steamer, a few electrical sparks falling along with it.

Vash put his arm and head through the loop in the black bag so that it was hanging on him diagonally. Using the remains of the fan's supports, Vash swung his legs out through the opening and nearly gave Meryl a heart attack. They were easily 100 feels from the ground at this point, and jumping seemed to her to be a very deadly mistake. However, Vash hung onto the support as he swung his body precariously over to a service ladder on the outside of the hull.

"Come on!" he shouted at her as he held out his hand for her to grab. She took a deep breath, then took his left hand, hoping beyond hope that he could hold her up in his condition. The bottom of her dress snagged on the remains of the broken fan supports, ripping the poor, dirty fabric to shreds. She swung dangerously low, but caught the rung that was right around the level of Vash's knee and got her feet situated before she let go of his hand.

She made the mistake of looking down and froze. Rocky cliffs were dangerously close to them and the caravan was barreling after the steamer with terrifying speed. They would have to jump for it at some point, since the ladder appeared to stop three fourths of the way down. There was no turning back, though. She was quite sure that neither one of them would be able to get back into the ventilation shaft even if they had wanted to. Still, she closed her eyes and couldn't make herself move.

"You want me to go first?" Vash shouted down at her.

"YES," She shouted back.

She felt as he made his way around her and began to climb down. She stayed still until _someone_ started tugging at her dress annoyingly and she finally gathered her wherewithal and made progress down the ladder. The alarms were still sounding inside the steamer, but no lights had spotted them as they made their way as quickly as safety permitted them to.

Finally they reached the end of the ladder and had to jump. Vash grabbed Meryl around the waist. "Close your eyes," he said right before he took a flying leap off the side of the steamer. They hit the sand and rolled a little before coming to a dizzying stop.

Suddenly, Meryl found herself flying through the air once again. Vash had picked her up by the corset again and thrown her as far as he could manage, sending her rolling out of the way of the caravan. She made a mental note never to ever wear anything that Vash could use as a handle as he dodged two trucks before leaping to safety himself.

Vash helped her up and led her towards the rocky cliffside. There was a small alcove and the both collapsed for several long moments, breathing heavily and thanking whoever was out there that they were both still alive.

"Meryl," Vash huffed as he put his arm around her shoulder. He was about to thank her in a self-deprecating way when she shrugged his hand off of her and got to her feet. Much to his surprise, she began walking in the direction the sand steamer was going!

"Hey," he said, confused. "What are you –"

"Look, Mr. Vash the Stampede," Meryl started, her voice cold. "I've got to get to December. The steamer is going _that_ direction," she pointed toward the gigantic vehicle, "and I'll be lucky if I can find a bus stop that runs along the same path before we both die of dehydration." She didn't stop walking.

_the Stampede?_ He thought they were well beyond formalities at this point. Plus, it wasn't even his real last name. "Wait!" he called out after her, getting to his feet as well.

"Why? So someone can find us and turn us over to the Feds? I don't think so." She continued to walk.

A strange mixture of frustration and impetus compelled Vash's next move. Before he even had a plan, he grabbed Meryl around the waist, pinning her arms to her sides, and held her back against him. She struggled, shouting at him to let her go for a few moments, but eventually she succumbed to the fact that he wasn't letting go. Her body went limp and he thought she had calmed herself, so Vash sank down to his knees, bringing her with him. He leaned his forehead against the back of her neck for a moment as he caught his breath once again. He soon realized, though, that she had not calmed. She had given up.

He could feel her shaking quietly in his embrace and he was slightly horrified. This was the last reaction he thought she would have to him.

"What do you want from me?" Meryl asked quietly.

This question didn't improve Vash's assessment of the situation. "What do you mean?" he asked back.

Meryl took a deep breath. "I used to be so confused when people called you a hypocrite. I thought, 'Now what are they talking about? This is a man who practices what he preaches! How can he be anything like a hypocrite?' But today I saw it. Today I saw what they meant."

Vash's heart went cold as she continued. "You hold yourself to a standard no one else can reach, and even if someone could, you won't let them. You won't let anybody else take any responsibility for anything. You insist on being the only one who is wrong, and when someone tries to help you, you tell them to go away. Your friends, you just… You won't let anybody… You can't just…" She sighed. "What do you want from me?" she asked again. She was crying quietly now.

He was at a complete loss for words. "Meryl," he started, but she cut him off.

"Don't."

"Don't what?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "Please…don't…say my name."

For a long moment, Vash sat with his arms around her, but he didn't know why. When she finally asked him to let her go again, this time he did.

---

A/N: Ah…another chapter done. What a monstrosity! Hopefully you guys are still enjoying this story. Thanks for sticking with it!! Review please!!!


	26. chapter 26

He could leave.

No one was stopping him.

When he thought about it that way, it staved off some of the anxiety of being trapped in a ship filled with humans who should have been rightly calling for his head. It had been two days since Vash had left him alone here and after he recovered from the terrifyingly strong mind-meld that left him wishing for his brother to get as far away from him as possible, he found himself puttering around the ship under a haze of uselessness and nervousness.

In his heyday, he had been in total control of his surroundings. Now he was puttering.

Knives had taken to the engine room. Doc had been working on some components there and that morning had asked for Knives to accompany him. The plant wasn't a mechanic by any means, but he did have a photographic memory and remembered schematics he had come across as a child when sifting through files aboard the mothership. This came in handy, considering most files in the ship's database were either still encrypted or corrupted, rendering them utterly useless for all intents and purposes.

He liked being in the engine room. The ship felt alive to him, and the sensation was particularly strong in this part, easier for him to pick up. He liked being away from the rest of the ship's residents. He also liked knowing that he had a physical advantage over the small doctor. The man posed little threat and if need be, Knives could kill him simply.

That's how Knives' mind worked these days. He was overwhelmingly focused on survival. It was a small preoccupation. Before, he was concerned with matters of world domination, the smiting of an entire race of organisms, and the like. Now it felt like he was just trying to keep himself alive. He didn't go into a room without noting all the exits and who was where. Before, it didn't even matter. He was untouchable, superior. Now he was something different. And the brother who vowed to protect him was off protecting a weak human instead. When it came to survival, Knives was alone.

There were only two humans he had any sort of meaningful contact with. Mostly, he dealt with the doctor. The man was small, but sharp. Knives could see through his protective cloak of naivete. The man knew that Knives was anything but domesticated. He gave Knives a wide berth in all things, physically and mentally. He didn't push Knives toward one conclusion or another. He didn't fight with Knives, either. Doc was the passive, calm center of the universe it seemed.

The other one was Milly. He didn't know how to deal with her very well. Their last interaction had been strained and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. All Knives knew was that her naivete wasn't a mask. He didn't know if he found this endearing or frustrating. She didn't understand anything that was happening to Knives, but she still appeared compassionate, and he was beginning to think that this had very little to do with her loyalty to Vash and very much to do with her nature. Milly fawned over the silent little orphan who tagged along with her like she was Milly's own flesh and blood. Knives didn't understand how or why she would want to do that.

She was beginning to remind him a lot of his brother.

After the installation with Doc was complete, he made his way out to the upper decks. Milly and the orphan generally stayed near the solarium. On this particular deck it was almost deserted. (Many of the residents on this dec had been killed when he had ordered Leonov and Grey onto the ship.) Though a seemingly bright and cheerful place, the other residents of the ship steered clear. Milly chose to hang out here because the orphan liked it quiet.

Hell, what did he know. Maybe Milly liked the quiet. Maybe he was completely wrong and somehow she was just a self-serving, conceited human like all the rest of them.

The thought filled him with comfort and sadness at the same time.

When he got to the solarium, he saw that the two were going to eat lunch soon. Two trays from the cafeteria sat untouched on the table. On the floor, the orphan was finishing a drawing. Milly was looking over the ledge at the sea of sand below, lost in thought. When she heard him making his approach, she looked up quickly.

The sad look in her eyes was not the naive gaze he had become accustom to. However, a moment later, the look was gone and she offered him a smile instead.

He found the sudden transition a little troubling, like she was hiding something. That did not reassure him. Milly returned her gaze to the desert below as Knives cautiously made his way towards her. Milly turned her face towards him and gave him a questioning look. He suddenly was unsure of why he was there. He mirrored her stance and stared out over the desert.

"Sometimes it amazes me what we can survive," Milly said quietly, breaking the silence. Knives noted her use of "we," but didn't protest.

He was slow to respond. "Sometimes it makes me wonder," he stated slowly, "why we even try."

Milly looked over at him and gave him an appraising look before speaking. "Why would you say that?" she asked honestly.

Why would he say that? He knew logically that it was only natural for life to fight for its survival. What was his point? He looked around, searching for an answer and his eyes landed on the girl on the floor. "Take the orphan," he said offhandedly. "She has lost her family, her home, her peace of mind. God knows what else has happened to her..."

Milly abruptly shushed him, and he lowered his voice.

"I mean, why does she go on? She has nothing left. Doesn't it make more sense to put her out of her misery? She is only a burden on others now. Isn't it logical just looking at the scarcity of resources to eliminate her? I don't know," he offhandedly stated, "she could be useful, maybe to science that way." He looked down and saw Milly's somewhat horrified gaze. "Am I wrong?" he asked defensively.

"Of course you're wrong! She's not miserable. And she's not a burden. She's a living, growing, changing human being." she sternly stated. "Why do keep going? It's the same reason she does."

"Because there's only one alternative?" he asked, half jokingly.

"It's because we never know what is going to happen next. We never know the future. And we want to know," she said quietly as if all of this were self-evident, looking at him intently. "Don't you want to know what will happen next?" she asked, sounding concerned.

Knives turned around and leaned on his elbows, looking outside again. He thought about a lot of things. He thought about how he had gotten to this point. He thought about how tired he was of living in fear: fear of the unknown, fear of what the humans would do to him if they got a hold of him, fear of what they would do to his brother. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what was going to happen next.

"Honestly?" he asked quietly. "I don't know."

Just then, the quiet sound of scribbling stopped and he heard small footsteps coming towards them. He looked over his shoulder, disinterested. Milly gave him another concerned look, then turned her attention to the girl. "What have you got here?" Milly bent down to hear her response.

The orphan whispered something in Milly's ear.

"Your family?" The girl looked bashfully away from the two adults as Milly looked over the drawing. "Why, this is a fine drawing! I couldn't make one better myself!"

The orphan whispered something else in Milly's ear.

"I can see that. It even looks like him! And I see Meryl and Doc... Good job, Lil! Look Knives!"

Knives looked over, still with a disinterested gaze. All he saw were blobs of color. If he used his imagination, he could tell who the people were meant to be. The short one with the black blob for a head was clearly the Meryl woman. The other short figure had to be Doc. Milly was the light brown blob with blue dots for eyes. And there was a tall figure with a yellow blob for a head. For some reason, this made him irritated.

"Of course Vash made the cut," he scoffed slightly to himself, unsure of why this made him feel jealous.

Milly looked confused. "But...Mr. Vash isn't in this picture... He has black hair now, remember?"

Knives remembered as a sense of guilt enveloped him. The decay, he had forgotten. His twin had lived over a century with blond hair and it was the way he thought of Vash even now. But then who...

"That's," Milly started cautiously, "you."

Knives stared at the picture, dumbfounded. Wasn't this of...her family? Milly began pointing out details, but he wasn't listening. He was thinking of his own family: a dead woman, a dead sister, and a dying brother. Why would this girl...this orphan...this burden... She has no family, he thought. Didn't she know that? He couldn't be part of her family. He had just been talking about killing her. He had just been talking...about killing...

Knives looked down at Lil and suddenly had a vision of her floating in a human-sized specimen jar. And then it wasn't Lil, but Tessla floating there, gutted, eyes and brain floating in a separate specimen container.

He suddenly felt...suddenly felt... He couldn't feel this. He had to push it back, hold it back.

Knives turned around quickly and with long strides began walking away. Suddenly, he heard small footsteps after him and a tug on his hand. He stopped and looked down. It was the orphan with her drawing. She was holding her drawing up for him to take. He reached down, almost in a dreamlike state, and took the picture. The colored blobs, what they represented, seemed unreal. This whole situation seemed unreal...

And with that thought, Knives promptly lost consciousness and fell to the floor.

* * *

A/N: Ahh...a short chapter...just to prove the story is still alive and that I'm alive! You know you have waited too long to post when you have to go back and reread parts of your own story to remember where you are... Hopefully I will be posting more later this week. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	27. chapter 27

Meryl was sitting so close to him. She was literally iches away from Vash, staring out of the window of the bus that was carrying them both closer and closer to December. They had been like this since the night before, when she had asked him what he wanted from her. She had thrown up a huge barrier between them, almost tangible, that he could almost feel radiating from her. He watched her for a few minutes, knowing that he had somehow done something so catastrophic as to bring their relationship to the breaking point.

Relationship? He didn't even know what to call her by.

He couldn't call her Meryl. He had gotten that message loud and clear. He couldn't call her "insurance girl" anymore. She was off the case, and besides, the nickname seemed altogether too casual for the situation they were in. To contemplate using any derivative of a nickname with the word "short" in it was completely absurd.

"Hey..." he began, wanting to establish some sort of truce before this got even more out of hand. She hadn't spoken a word to him since she stopped crying the night before.

"Ms. Stryfe," she offered automatically without looking at him.

He scrunched his face up. He didn't like the sound of that at all. He didn't even want to say it. "Ms. Stryfe..." But he did. It was almost like she was giving him permission to talk to her.

However, she cut him off curtly, detached, her eyes still staring out the window. "Mr. Vash the Stampede, if you are concerned over reimbursement of the bus fare you so graciously offered, I am sure that once we arrive at the central office and a new agent is assigned, Bernardelli's will be glad to settle the expense." She rattled this off like it was a matter of course. He almost forgot that she was sitting there in a destroyed, blood speckled, dusty grey dress looking more tired and dehydrated than he'd seen her in a long time.

"B...bus fair?" he sputtered, confused by her almost mechanical tone of voice and the introduction of the idea of a "new agent." It was true that he had paid out of his Super Secret Stash O' Cash at the bottom of his duffle bag, but he wasn't even thinking... "No, that's not what I --"

"Then what is it, Mr. Vash," she turned and looked at him straight in the eye, "that you want?"

He practically whithered under her unflinching gaze. He looked away, glanced back, then looked away again. "I...never...nevermind." He couldn't hold back a quiet sigh of utter defeat. He didn't know how to win this battle. He didn't even know how to fight. Should he even be sitting next to her? Was there even a reason for him to be on this bus? He heard Meryl exhale loudly, then sensed as she turned back toward the window. Damnit. She had actually been waiting for a response. If he only knew what to say to her, he would say it.

_What do you want from me?_

He didn't know. He'd never had to field that particular question in his entire life. One thing was for sure: it was driving him crazy that she wasn't talking to him. He thought of Meryl as a rather private person, but being shut out so completely made him realize just how open she had been with him. In their whole time together, she never saw him as a threat, she didn't even believe he was _the _Vash the Stampede for weeks. Even at his most destructive, she still tried to follow him. Her guard had been as low as she ever let it get. He could see that now. All the times she had trailed him, all the times she had looked over him: these weren't things she did for just anybody.

What everybody else got was the cool and aloof insurance agent shtick, and he was very much disgusted with himself that she was now giving it to him.

* * *

Meryl and Vash had been on the bus for a few hours. Meryl had been right: there was a bus line that meandered across the steamer's route. It took them a good bit of walking to find a stop, but they did, and they were lucky that a bus passed through the area so frequently. When the bus driver stopped, he gave each one of them a once over, guaging for trouble:

The tall man had a nearly completely swollen black eye, and his clothing was covered in blood. The short girl looked to have just walked out of a hostage situation, what with her shredded dress and her expression of exhaustion.

He didn't like the look of these two. He would let the girl on, of course, but the guy...he wasn't so sure... Why was he so beat up?

"Fare!" the bus driver automatically announced after assessing the two. The driver saw an exchange that put his mind a little more at ease about the young man.

The girl's eyes shot open, as if somehow the idea of having to pay her fare was a brand new concept. At the same time, the young man was digging into his pocket looking rather sheepishly.

"Hey Mer...I mean Ins...um...got any cash? They took my wallet when they booked me."

The girl looked over at him and gave him the most savage death glare the bus driver had ever seen. He watched as the young man threw his hands up in surrender. The young woman took a deep breath and simply began to walk right past him, like getting on the bus at this point was an impossibility and she didn't have the heart to argue with the driver to change his mind. He was about to call out to her to wait a minute when the young man sprang into action.

He grabbed her shoulder quickly, frantically, but just as she turned around, he stopped touching her as soon as inhumanly possible. "Just a joke! A joke!" He began digging furiously into the bottom of his bag, which seemed to have a whole lot of stuff in it at the moment.

The girl walked past him and boarded the bus. "Thank you so much sir for waiting." The driver was surprised by the poise and grace this young lady could exhibit even under these conditions. He was going to ask her if everything was okay, but she had already turned and had zeroed in on the last empty bus seat.

Just then, the young man clammored up the stairs with a wad of bills in his hand. "How much do I owe you?"

"Where are you aiming to get to?" the bus driver asked.

"December?" the young man asked.

The bus driver stopped for a moment and eyed the young man. He didn't seem like a bad fellow. If the driver had known any better, he would say that the two of them had gotten caught up in something that neither one should have been involved in. "Fifty double dollars...for the two of you," he finally said, generously. Fare was normally thirty-five each.

The young man tried to smile as he handed the driver the money, but it came out as a lopsided grimace. Poor kid, the man thought to himself. The young man paid the fare, then turned. The bus driver couldn't figure out why, but he was suddenly enveloped in a deep feeling of sadness. The young man's shoulders slumped as he made his way to the seat the girl had chosen. He hesitated, waiting for something. It never came. He looked around at other seats. There seats available next to other passengers, but he didn't look to interested in sitting with anybody else. He finally sighed, stowed his bag in the overhead rack, and sat down, one long leg stretched out in the aisle. He leaned back in the seat and looked up at the ceiling, letting out one long exhale.

Whether it was relief or defeat, the bus driver didn't know.

* * *

A/N: Alright, another short chapter to go with the previous short chapter! Thanks to Jenn for being my 200th reviewer and thanks to Mitai, Redcliff, and TrisakAminawn for sticking with the story. SERIOUSLY! :) Hell, thanks to everyone for all the reviews! If there are some typos, I wrote this in notepad, so I didn't have spell check. JUST SAYING!

In the next chapter, there will be some Meryl and Vash resolution...it's just that it could go either way... I'll update soon! Reviews!


	28. chapter 28

It was late afternoon, and Meryl's back was beginning to hurt from the bumpy bus ride. She had snagged the window seat, a rare feat any time a certain stupid, idiotic, moronic, useless legendary ace gunman was involved. She watched the desert pass by as she gazed out of the window. There had been a stop about an hour back and Meryl had held her breath the entire time, wondering if Vash might just take the opportunity and bail on her. He could have gotten up, thrown her things out of his bag, and left her forever.

He didn't, though.

He just sat there, one long leg jutting out into the aisle, the other hopelessly crammed into the small area between their seat and the next, moving only to let other passengers get by. Something about him staying made her...kind of angry. She probably looked like she was doing anything but paying attention to him, but in reality, she found herself hyper-focused on him. She couldn't help herself, and that pissed her off. All he had to do was turn to her and say...anything, really. Yes, she was mad, really mad, and she was being tough, but that didn't mean she wouldn't give the man a chance to plead his case...to make a case...

The desert began to change, bit by bit. Every once in a while, a little house or building would crop up. They were getting closer to December.

Maybe she was being too hard on him. Maybe she didn't really know what she wanted. Make a case? For what? He was right there and it was messing with her head the idea that a week and a half ago, she would have given her right arm to have Vash all to herself for an extended period of time.

The houses began to become more densely packed as they approached the city. Meryl thought some of the buildings looked familiar, but didn't really think too much about it.

Was he trying to drive her crazy? Why had she even asked him that? Did she really want to know? Was she prepared for him to say that he really didn't want anything from her? He had the opportunity to say just that. She had stupidly opened herself up for humiliation and devastation. She just couldn't help it, though. Seeing him there, beaten and bloody, telling her that she didn't know him at all, even after all this time: it had done something to her. \She had assumed they were friends, potentially more, even, but hearing that, well... Maybe she didn't know him at all. Maybe all this time she thought she had been getting closer to him, but in reality, he had just been being nice.

The houses were even more packed together now. It looked like a suburb of the city...and it almost reminded her of...

Suddenly, she knew where she was, and she desperately wanted off the bus. She stood up quickly, not caring that Vash and the other passengers were startled by her sudden movement, shouting at the bus driver, "Can you let us off here please, sir?"

"What?" the bus driver shouted.

She took the opportunity to climb over a still-stunned Vash and she made her way to the front of the bus. "Please, let us off the bus, now," she pleaded.

The bus driver looked at her, unsure, but did indeed slow the bus to a stop. The passengers grumbled. "Anybody else getting off needs to do it now." He looked pointedly at Vash, who was still dumbstruck by Meryl's outburst.

Meryl looked at Vash, then hopped off the bus, making a bee-line down the street she obviously was well acquainted with. Weren't they supposed to be going to December? What were they doing stopping here? It was all Vash could do to grab his duffle bag and scramble off the bus, apologizing to the other passengers as he exited the bus.

The bus pulled away quickly and Vash found himself a good two blocks behind Meryl. He took a deep breath, then decided to follow her. She walked quickly and confidently down the street, made a right, walked two blocks, made a left, and then walked up to a two-story Victorian house with a wrap-around porch and a swing in the front. By this time, Vash had gained a little ground and had basically caught up with the young woman.

Vash watched as she jogged up to the front door and knocked. She waited for a few moments, then knocked again. She rang the doorbell, but nobody answered. Meryl seemed disappointed and a little concerned as she stepped back and looked at the door for a long while. He was just about to ask what they were doing there when she went to the rock garden on the side of the house and selected a particular small boulder. She looked around to make sure no one else was watching. Then she hefted it over to reveal the small compartment hollowed out underneath. In the hollowed-out place, she withdrew a key.

Was this...her house?

Meryl quickly made her way back to the front door and unlocked it. She pushed it open cautiously, then stepped inside. "Mom?" she called out in a voice that sounded a bit nervous. "Hey Mom, it's me, Meryl," she stated as she went inside, leaving Vash in the front yard alone.

Meryl was trying to remain calm, but the longer she went without an answer, the more frantic she was becoming. By the appearance of the furniture and the heavy coating of dust on the counters, the house had been empty for some time. Meryl's mind immediately assumed the worst. She checked through the first floor, noting that there were still preserves and food ration packets in the cupboard. No furniture was overturned, there was no sign of forced entry.

She apprehensively approached the stairs, slightly afraid of what she might find on the upper floor. She jumped a little as Vash came through the front door, looking concerned. She didn't want to admit it, but him being there strengthened her enough to continue investigating.

She began climbing the stairs slowly, watching for anything that was out of place along the way. She made it to the landing and noticed that the flowers her mother always kept in a small vase at the top of the stairs had withered and died a long time ago. The vase was bone dry and two dead twigs stuck out at odd angles. Shriveled petals littered the tabletop.

Meryl moved around the table to investigate the rooms. First, she checked her room. Everything was just as she had left it when she went off to college. Nothing was out of place. She then checked the master bedroom, her mother's room. She approached slowly, cautiously, and rested her hand on the doorknob, not really wanting to look inside for what she might find. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to be calm as she swung the door open. The room was empty.

It wasn't entirely empty. The furniture was still there, but the whole room had the feel of a place that had been abandoned. The pictures on the wall had been removed, leaving residual dark areas on the wall paper where the suns couldn't bleach. Meryl walked into the room and took a look around. Her mother's dresser had been cleared off. Neither her knicknacks nor her jewelry box remained. She opened the drawers of the dresser: all her mother's clothes were gone. Meryl then looked in the closet: the place had been cleared out. Her mother's suitcase, a blue one much like Meryl's old pink suitcase, was missing.

Meryl was starting to feel slightly creeped out by the emptiness of the room. In a rush, she left, closing the door behind her, and made her way downstairs. She heard voices in the front room, and as she approached, she recognized one as belonging to Vash. The other one was familiar...

"What do you mean you're with Meryl! Who are you!" she heard a voice exclaim. As Meryl entered the room, the voice suddenly gasped. "Oh my dear Meryl!" It was an older woman about four inches taller than Meryl: Ms. Kenley from next door. The woman gave Meryl a once-over, a horror-stricken look on her face. "What has happened to you?" The woman worked her mouth, trying to get words out. "I am so glad your mother isn't here to see you like this. Are you alright?" Ms. Kenley looked between Meryl and Vash, then back to Meryl again.

Meryl remembered what she must look like, especially with Vash in tow, but she was more concerned with finding out what had happened to her mother than explaining her current appearance. "My mom, is she alright? Where is she?" Meryl asked frantically.

Ms. Kenley looked confused. "You don't...know?"

Meryl shook her head. "I haven't visited or written much, not since Dad died..." Meryl felt dread and guilt sieze her. "Do you know where my mother is?

She saw Meryl's expression of unadulterated fear and realization dawned on Ms. Kenley's face. "Oh my dear girl, your mother is fine!" she said, trying to calm Meryl down. "I got a letter a few weeks ago letting me know she is alright." Ms. Kenley moved closer and placed a reassuring hand on Meryl's shoulder.

Meryl was confused. "You got a letter?" she asked.

Ms. Kenley nodded. "Yes, she told me she would write when she got settled into her new place."

"Her new place? Where is it?" Meryl questioned.

Ms. Kenley looked a little troubled. "I...don't know exactly. There was no return address on the letter." Ms. Kenley looked thoughtful. "She must have been spooked pretty badly by that ambush a few months ago. That's when she moved."

"Ambush! What?" Meryl practically shouted.

"Oh my," Ms. Kenley sighed. "Come, let's sit down and I'll tell you all about it."

Ms. Kenley shot a suspicious glance over at Vash, then took Meryl by the hand and led her into the sitting room. Then Ms. Kenley shut the door, leaving Vash outside. He got the message: this didn't pertain to him. He was too tired to try to listen in on the conversation. At least he knew Meryl's mother was alright.

Vash sighed as he looked around. This house was beginning to look like a thousand other abandoned homes he had seen throughout his travels. He didn't like it at all...especially with the occasional photo of Meryl as a young child that hung on the wall. He found it all extremely unsettling.

He needed to get out of here. Meryl was okay, and probably didn't want to deal with him anyway. In truth, he really wasn't sure he wanted to deal with Meryl. And he thought he'd seen a bar on the way over here...

* * *

"So, what are you doing back here?" Ms. Kenley finally asked.

Meryl sighed. "I have to report back to the central office in December for my new assignment. The current one has been...compromised. The bus we took just happened to come through this neighborhood and I thought it would be nice to pay a visit...and get cleaned up...before showing up at the office."

Ms. Kenley looked Meryl over again. "I see... But...why do you look so...torn up?"

Meryl thought quick. "I'm...really not at liberty to say. Official business. Sometimes it's dangerous..."

Ms. Kenley knew Meryl was a top investigation agent at Bernardelli's and assumed Meryl couldn't talk about some of her cases. The organization was less like a normal insurance company and more like a government agency. How else could they have the funds to cover all of that Stampede's messes?

"Well," Ms. Kenley started, "it's getting to be about dinner time. Would you and your...partner, I assume, like to come over to my house for dinner this evening?"

Meryl was a little confused until she realized Ms. Kenley must be talking about Vash. "Oh, no...I wouldn't want to impose."

"It's no trouble at all!" the older woman exclaimed.

"No, really, I'd like to spend some time here, if that's alright. I want to see what Mom left and make sure it is safely packed away."

Ms. Kenley sighed, "Well, if you change your mind, I am right next door." She got up to leave. "It really is good to see you again, Meryl, though I wish you were visiting under happier circumstances."

Meryl laughed humorlessly, "Well, that's what I get for never writing, I guess."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Ms. Kenley insisted. "Your mother is so proud of you and she knows you are working hard. We all know you try your best."

"Thanks," Meryl said as the two women stood up. As she walked Ms. Kenley to the door, Meryl noticed Vash was nowhere to be seen. Ms. Kenley noticed as well.

"Where did that partner of yours run off to?" she asked Meryl.

"I don't know..." Meryl said as she looked around. Her eyes fell on the black bag propped up against the wall by the door and she couldn't help but feel relieved. "I know he'll be back soon, though."

* * *

A/N: Alright, you good people have been waiting for ages for an update and all I give to you is more exposition. Curses to Inkydoo! I will try to post the next chapter quickly, though, like...within the next week. And I PROMISE that there will be some Vash and Meryl resolution in the next chapter. SERIOUSLY FOLKS!

Please review! Thanks to all of you who have been reviewing! It's good to know people are still reading this story!


	29. chapter 29

A/N: I am reposting because I rewrote parts of this so that it hopefully flows better. This was not an easy chapter for me to write. Hopefully now it's a little less awkward :)

Further edited due to several good points made by **Infinite Devil Machine.**

It seems as though this is getting beta'd as we go along. FURTHER edited due to a good point made by **Ducky Dame**.

Keep the concrit coming :)

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Meryl sat at the kitchen table of the empty house and recalled her conversation with Ms. Kenley:

"How should I put this dear...They, well, targeted your mother...because of...your profession." The older woman looked nervous.

"My profession? Insurance? They wanted to take out a policy?" Meryl had been thoroughly confused.

"Well, no..." Ms. Kenley started, trying delicately to reveal the truth without upsetting the young woman. "Somehow, I suppose, they found out who you were trailing. It's not exactly common knowledge, but word has gotten around that there are two insurance agents who are trailing Vash the Stampede. After all, news about a bounty that big travels fast." She continued, but didn't need to say anything else. Meryl had already put it all together before Ms. Kenley could finish.

Meryl's thoughts turned elsewhere as she sighed with regret. She was looking over some old photo albums that had been left behind, pictures of her life in this house with both her parents, then with just one parent, and now with neither. The suns had gone down long ago and she had gotten into her old night shirt and a comfy robe. She looked at the pictures without really noticing them, absentmindedly rubbing the long gold earrings she hadn't worn in a few days. Her mind was wandering, thinking about her job and its effects on nearly everyone around her.

There were some very positive things about it. She had met Milly, who quickly became her closest confidante. She excelled through the ranks at the office. She had seen more of the world than most anybody of her age. Adventure had become a way of life for her. After Augusta, along with being beside herself after not being able to find him, she was bored out of her mind back at the office. She might have been straight-laced and all business, but she she also knew the thrill of a gunfight, the rush after a close call, and the pride of being able to locate her target, whoever that may be.

Not everything was positive. Over the years, she had lost some things that could never be replaced. The sheer amount of time she spent on the job was one thing, time that could have been spent doing other things...

She turned the page of the photo album she was looking at and stopped at a picture of her mother and father smiling brightly. The picture was obviously taken from a very low angle. She smiled a little, recalling the moment she took that picture herself. She must have been 5 years old. Her parents looked happy.

Her parents had prepared her well for the world, but sometimes she longed for the days when she believed that justice always prevailed and evil was always overcome. It was silly, really, but every once in a while she thought about how simple things used to be. Catching up with the biggest outlaw on the planet? Facing assassins and bounty hunters on a daily basis? Dispatching unruly bandits who had a penchant for hijacking sandsteamers? These were all things that she couldn't even imagine when she was younger.

But now? Let's see: her assignment had been framed by his twin brother for the destruction of July, but not before marooning the remains of the human race on a barren planet to be swallowed up by the desert. Oh, and they also happened to be plants. Who were more than one hundred years old... And she might be in love with one of them.

Yeah, things weren't so simple anymore.

Meryl looked at the other photographs on the page. Her parents had provided a strong foundation for her, a foundation based on security and trust, but the rest of the world really didn't work this way. Then her father had been taken away so suddenly it was almost unbearable. And now with her mom: she was nowhere to be found, running away from things she shouldn't have had to deal with in the first place. She was running away from Meryl's enemies...from his enemies... Her mother was now a casualty, a statistic Meryl would have to file away in a report, another victim of The Stampede and his incredible bounty.

And then there was Vash. Should she file him as a loss or a gain?

Meryl sighed again, but this time out of exhaustion. She was so tired of protecting herself from all the hurt and heartache she potentially faced when dealing with this man. She never knew if there was a place set aside just for her. There had been times when Meryl had felt close to Vash, but he never acknowledged it as something that was special. It wasn't like it was ever something that was clearly meant just for her.

She thought back to their conversation in the saloon, and realized with a bit of horror that that had only been two days ago. At the time, she had figured that this was a sign that he really cared. He had come in late, he had hugged her, he had kept the handkerchief she had given him. HE'D KEPT THE DAMN HANDKERCHIEF. But the more she let herself think about it, the more foolish she felt. In the end, there was nothing really special about having a handkerchief in one's pocket, was there?

She felt sort of conceited for this, but more than anything, she secretly wanted a man who could make her feel special. She wanted a man who thought of her first, who prefered her most, who loved her best.

And therein lied the problem: she cared for Vash in particular. Vash loved everyone in general. How many times had he done something stupid for someone he didn't know just because they needed the help? He tried to protect everyone regardless of whether or not they were trying to kill him.

What if he didn't want anything from her at all, she thought bitterly.

And this was the reason why Meryl's desire for a man who could make her feel special clashed so considerably with her need for security. She always imagined the relationship she would actually end up in would be a stoic affair. He would be, above all, stable. The trash would be out on time. The dishes would be washed. The house would be straight. The children would be on time to whatever engagement they were involved in, every event being planned well in advance. They would love each other just enough so that things would work. They would not rock the boat. They would accomplish their goals together. They would respect and appreciate each other. They would be equal individuals who had mutually agreed to be together in order to improve both their lives.

Love was terrifying in its ability to lay waste to the best of plans, and Meryl definitely subscribed to the "Better to have never loved" philosophy of relationships. Could she ever be like Milly? Could she just go for it? No, she thought. This kind of thing didn't work for her. She couldn't risk it. She just couldn't handle the aftermath if things didn't pan out in her favor...

That's why, when Vash got back, whenever he got back, she would tell him that she had decided to go to the Central Office alone and that he was to return to the ship to take care of his brother and to inform Milly personally that everything was alright. With the way things currently stood, there was no chance in hell that anything positive would come out of being with Vash, and if nothing good was going to happen, then there was no reason to torture herself by remaining in his presence.

It was for the best.

Some time later, a knock on the front door drew Meryl's attention away from her thoughts. It had to be Vash. She felt a sense of doom as she approached the door, knowing what she had to say. She checked through the peep hole, confirming his identity. She made sure the robe was securely tied around her waist, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

He looked better. His shirt was still bloody, but the swelling in his face had gone down some and he had washed the blood out of his hair. He stood silently, looking down, and Meryl couldn't tell if he was sullen or petrified. He suddenly looked at her and his gaze was so intense that she almost looked away. Unwillingly, a feeling of exhilaration flared up in her chest and she couldn't say the things she knew she needed to say.

"We need...to talk," he said warily.

A chill of fear raced down Meryl's spine. She imperceptibly shook her head, forcing herself to get a grip. Without saying anything, she moved to the side and opened the door wider so that he could come in. He waited as she closed and locked the door, then she turned without looking at him and walked back to the kitchen. Instead of sitting immediately, she compulsively busied herself by putting on a kettle of water for tea.

During this time, Vash had pulled out a chair and sat down, patiently waiting for her to complete her task. He was watching her, but Meryl was determined not to make eye contact until she was ready. Slowly, and with control, she made her way back to her seat and moved several photo albums to the side. She pulled her chair up, crossed her arms, and then waited.

"Mer- um..." he paused. He sat up straight, then a moment later leaned forward in his chair, as if he was trying to find some position that would be more comfortable. The smell of alcohol was on his breath and exhaustion was written all over his features. "This is..." he started again, haltingly. "This is hard for me...I haven't ever done this before." He ran a hand through his hair and Meryl snuck a glimpse of him. He looked...nervous. Meryl didn't know if she felt satisfied or more nervous herself.

"I don't...it's been a long...I don't really know how to start." He took a deep breath, then continued with a little more confidence. "I've been thinking about your question...the one you asked yesterday." That chill of fear raced through Meryl again. She could feel his eyes on her, looking for a cue, but she wasn't about to look at him right now. "You are probably the first...you are the first person who has ever asked me that, and...I've been giving it a lot of thought." Vash paused, then continued. "You are probably the first person who has ever asked me...what I want at all."

An odd mixture of fear and compassion mixed inside of Meryl as she waited to hear what Vash had to say. "I mean, people have asked what I want, but not ever...like...this." He sighed. "So I have been thinking about...things. It's kind of strange," Vash smiled. "I know what I want when it comes to big things, the things that involve everybody, but the small things, the things that I personally...I haven't really thought about." He started again. "That's not quite true. I wouldn't let myself think about it. I had a job to do, and I couldn't allow myself to want...much of anything... But now..." He trailed off for a moment. "So, first off, I want to apologize."

Meryl looked at him with surprise now. "For...what?"

"You didn't have to, but you came after me yesterday. I am not...accustom to having someone look out for me like that. It has just been a long time...and I didn't know how to react. I know...that holding myself to this standard, taking responsibility for everything...it's not realistic, and I promised myself I would start living by my own ideals after I fought Knives, but, well...I guess I've gotten off to a rocky start." He smiled apologetically.

Meryl sat quietly for a moment. "I, um-" She was taken aback. She hadn't expected him to have thought so seriously about this. "I...accept your apology." It was a start.

Vash had a determined look in his eye. "I, well, second, I want...to say...to say your name. I want permission to say your name. I have been thinking about this a lot and it's...important to me."

Meryl really didn't know what to say to this. "You...spent years calling me 'Insurance Girl.' I wasn't even sure you knew my name for the longest time," she said offhandedly.

"I knew. I just couldn't...get too close," he said vaguely.

Meryl took a deep breath. "Yeah, I get it," she scoffed. "Kind of like how you should never name something you might have to eat. So you just...did you know it was important to me? My name? To know it? To...say it?" She felt like she was revealing her hand, but this was too much. And being angry felt safer than being sad.

Vash looked guilty. "I...I knew, and I knew it bothered you," he admitted, but he kept looking at her.

The kettle began to go off and she looked away. Without looking at him, she pushed herself away from the table and walked to the stove. She turned the water off, but did not move to get a mug or tea. She just stood there with her back to him. "And now what?" she asked quietly. "Now it's okay to call me by my name?" She heard Vash turn in his chair to face her. "Now it's convenient for you?" she turned around, anger holding back the sadness she would otherwise be feeling right now.

"I don't want you to be upset..." Vash started.

Meryl was incensed. "Well, I'm upset!" she stated loudly.

Vash sounded flustered. "I didn't do it to hurt you," he said in his defense. "I just couldn't get...too close to you, to anyone..." he finished lamely.

"Oh," Meryl started sarcastically, "yeah...that's right, since you made up ridiculous names for everybody, huh?" she asked, knowing it wasn't true. "And now I suppose you can get close to anyone," she said, finishing quietly, "anyone you want to." She didn't want to sound this bitter, but she couldn't hide the feeling anymore. "Fine," she said quietly, resigned. "You can call me whatever you want to."

"...Meryl..." he said, sounding a whole lot more concerned than she was expecting him to.

"Whatever," she snapped. "What's next?"

"Well...um, it's not like a checklist, really," Vash said, unsure. She could tell the conversation wasn't going the way he had planned it. She didn't respond, so he started again. "I mean, I guess what I'm trying to say is that...now that everything is over, I want..." He took a deep breath and swallowed. "I want to...be closer to you."

If Meryl hadn't been so angry, she might have been flattered or shocked or happy even, but right now his words just weren't enough to get through. "Okay..." she said, sarcastic again, and took three steps towards him until she was standing right in front of him. Her leg brushed against one of his knees. "We're closer. Now what?"

Vash looked away, and when he looked back at her, she could see the hurt in his eyes. "You asked me. You asked me what I wanted. I didn't realize you..." He sighed dejectedly. "Never mind." He dropped his head into his hand and rubbed his face tiredly. "There are rooms at the saloon down the street. I'll stay there tonight." He lowered his hand, but his head still hung low. "I guess...in the morning, if you're going to go on from here, just let me know what your plans are for tomorrow."

He looked at her now and she was surprised and disturbed by the lack of emotion in his eyes, like he had just wiped his face clean of it. Like they'd just been talking about something as inconsequential as the weather. She deeply regretted her behavior towards him now and did not move away from him so that he could stand easily. "Or not, I mean, it's up to you."

She balled her hands into fists and stood there silently.

"Come on," he coaxed her. "We're both tired. It's been a really long day," he needlessly reminded the two of them. "I think we just need some sleep and then in the morning-"

"I'm sorry," she blurted out. Something flashed in his eyes, but he hid it just as quickly as he could. This was not a good sign. "I'm sorry," she said again. "Please...continue...if you want to..."

He smiled overly cheerfully and scratched the back of his neck. "It's stupid really, not even that important!" he exclaimed way too happily. "Really, nothing to even worry about Insura-" He stopped abruptly, his facade even faltering a bit. "I mean," he started, a little more seriously, "it's really not that important."

She tried not to start shaking. "It's important," Meryl said, her fists tightening, "to me."

Vash looked down and shook his head, completely downtrodden. "I...can't."

"Yes you can," Meryl said, a little alarmed, a whole lot more guilty. "You can. Trust me. I'll even...if I can, I'll do my best to make it happen." He looked up and peered at her. "I promise," she swore.

He continued to look at her, trying to decide whether or not he should keep going.

Several silent moments passed.

"I want," he finally started cautiously, his voice deep and serious, "to be closer to you."

"Like how?" she asked cautiously. "Like this?"

Vash shook his head. "I...can't explain it." He sighed. "Like...we were."

Meryl was confused. "Like we were? When?"

Vash shrugged. "I don't know...like, when we were in the cold-sleep chamber...or when we were on that cliff...I know it was a long time ago, you might not remember," he finished hurriedly.

Meryl was surprised at this. "I thought...I was annoying you."

He began to move his hand toward Meryl, but quickly stopped and made a fist instead. He shook his head. "No," was all he said.

"Oh." She had noticed his hand moving toward her before he changed course. "So...what else do you want."

He blushed. Meryl wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

"I want...I mean, this is totally, umm, what I mean to say is, well-"

Meryl was growing impatient with anticipation. "Spill it."

Vash swallowed hard, seemed to brace for impact, then said, "I want...to touch you." He looked at her like he couldn't believe that he was actually saying this.

Meryl began to blush as well, but was too shocked by the current request to try to hide it. She took a deep breath, then pushed her legs past his knees a little bit so that she was standing in between his thighs. Then she took one of his hands and placed it on her waist. She took the other hand and did the same. Then, her heart beating incredibly fast, she decided to rest her hands on his shoulders.

She was surprised at how strange it felt to be able to touch him in this way. His shoulders somehow seemed broader than they usually looked. She couldn't believe she was doing this.

She was standing unbearably close to him. She heard him swallow again. "Like...this?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Like this."

They were so close. She was almost too nervous to ask. In almost a whisper, she asked, "So...what...what else?"

He bit his bottom lip, then took a deep breath. "I want...to..." he whispered as he slowly leaned in. She felt his breath on her skin and her heart skipped a beat. She felt a peal of nervousness as he pulled her closer to him. She closed her eyes and suddenly felt his lips lightly touching hers.

He loosened his hold on her, but she stayed close, dazed by what was suddenly happening between them. She leaned in toward him, this time initiating the kiss, noting how wonderful, but foreign, it felt to kiss him, someone she had known for so long in another capacity. Sure, she had imagined it before, but for it to actually be happening, it was like-

"Meryl," Vash said quietly.

"Yeah?" she asked.

He smiled against her lips. "You're over-thinking this."

Before she could say anything else, he kissed her more passionately than he had before, and Meryl inhaled a sharp intake of breath. He covered her mouth with his, this time deepening the kiss, and Meryl couldn't help but let out a small sigh of satisfaction. This was all the encouragement he needed to continue further, starting with her mouth, then trailing his lips along her neck, all the while holding her incredibly close. After a few moments, Meryl began to play lightly with his hair with one hand.

Meryl felt an incredible thrill being so close to him, feeling his body so close to hers. He ran his hand down her back and pulled her closer, pressing her flush against him and she gasped into his mouth. His kisses were becoming more urgent, and she obliged him willingly. Her hands traveled from his hair, down his neck, to his chest, then back again. She pressed her lips hard against his, matching him in his need for closeness.

She suddenly felt a tug at her middle and realized with a start that Vash was undoing the knot on her robe.

"Wait," she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

He stopped immediately and looked at her, his eyes filled with passion. "We...can stop." The look in his eyes told her that was the last thing he wanted to do.

She shook her head. "Never mind," she said and continued to kiss him. After a moment, she felt him continue with the disrobing, sliding a hand inside along her waist. She couldn't help but sigh at the feeling. The other hand slipped inside, wrapping around her small frame. She gasped at the sensation as one hand slid down her thigh and back up underneath her night shirt along her leg, then her waist, then up along her ribcage. He began to trail kisses lower down her neck to her collarbone.

Suddenly, she very much wanted him to be wearing fewer clothes. She began unbuttoning his shirt, but he pressed his mouth against hers with more force than he had before, and she was completely absorbed in the sensation. She suddenly wanted more, and it scared her. Hesitantly breaking the kiss for a moment, she pulled away and looked at his face. His eyes were dark and wanting. After a moment, he moved again to kiss her neck as his hands continued to explore underneath her nightshirt. She moaned as he continued to press his lips against her skin.

She wanted more, more of whatever this was. His hands were doing devilish things to her, making her weak in the knees. "Couch," she suddenly breathed in his ear.

"Hmm?" he hummed against her skin.

She moved back and pulled him, and he followed, not wanting to break contact with her body. "There's a couch...in the sitting room," she said more explicitly, and he mumbled his agreement. They walked slowly, kissing each other passionately. At one point, Vash pinned her against the wall as his ravenous mouth pushed intensely against her lips and his body pressed hard into hers.

Slowly, they stumbled over to the couch where he proceeded to kiss her as he leaned over, placing her on the couch beneath him. He pressed himself against her and she couldn't help but moan as she felt his weight on top of her. He had started to unbutton her shirt as he placed his kisses lower and lower on her body.

Suddenly, with a heavy sense of responsibility, Meryl assessed the situation. He had four out of 6 of her buttons undone. She had nearly succeeded in de-shirting him. If clothes were coming off, she really needed to stop this. This was crazy! What was she doing here?

Suddenly, he moaned her name into her ear and that was all she wrote. This was going to happen. She had never heard anyone utter a more appealing sound in her life.

He began to shift his weight to be more directly on top of her and she realized that from this point on, things were going to get serious. She sighed as Vash continued to press his lips to her neck. "Vash," she said, a little timidly, but firmly.

"Yeah?" he questioned without stopping, his voice low. He had her shirt front all but open and was searching for sensitive flesh.

She moaned at his touch, but couldn't let this just continue without saying something. "Vash, do you...ah...have protection?"

"Huh?" he said as he propped himself up to look at her.

Meryl didn't realize she could blush any harder. "I mean...do you have a condom?"

Vash suddenly had a faraway look in his eyes as he caught his breath. "A condom?"

Meryl laughed out of nervousness. "Yeah, you know...a prophylactic? Some sort of protection?"

He suddenly looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time that evening, and he looked surprised. Shocked even. He pushed himself off of Meryl, sitting up. Vash rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. "Ah...I think...that maybe...things have gotten a little out of hand tonight."

"...out of hand?" Meryl asked, confused by the rapid change in his demeanor.

Vash was trying to control his breathing. "Yeah, I think that maybe I should, uh, get going."

Meryl's heart sunk. "Get going? Why?"

Vash finally looked at her and she saw the doubt and worry in his face.

"Is...this...not what you-" Meryl started.

"Yes," Vash reassured her. "Yes it is."

Meryl looked confused. "Then why are we stopping?"

Vash sighed. "I don't know. I mean, I do know, but it's not-"

"Do you...want to stop?"

"I don't know." He sighed and looked around. "I don't know if this is the right thing to do..." he paused, "for you, for me..." Another sigh. "I mean, it feels..." he halted, covering his face with his hands, "but that doesn't make it right."

Meryl sat there as Vash held his head in his hands. She didn't know what to do.

"Look, I'm sorry," Vash finally said. "I just can't..." he trailed off.

He stood to leave, and this time Meryl didn't block his way. Just before he walked out of the room, she spoke up.

"So...that's it? You're just going to leave like that?" She didn't look at him.

He stopped, but he didn't say anything.

A torrent of disappointment and hurt welled up inside her. She wanted to crawl into a corner and cry her eyes out, but her defensive anger kicked in. After waiting a few more seconds for a response, she had had it. Her body was filling with righteous anger and bitterness. She let it come through in her voice: "You come in here unexpectedly, then you...you just...take advantage of the..." Her mind couldn't find the words. "I should have known..." she accused, but was cut off.

"You should have known what?" Vash shouted unexpectedly. Meryl was taken aback and looked up at him. His eyes were filled with anger and pain. "Look, I'm not trying to do this to hurt you. What kind of person do you think I am?" He turned. He started again with a more moderate tone of voice. "Tonight I have put myself on the line, and for what? For you to think I took advantage of the situation? I didn't hear you telling me to stop..." He sighed heavily. "What do you want from _me_?" he asked, throwing her words back at her, anger coming through in his voice.

What did she want from him? She was sitting there breathless with her shirt more than halfway unbuttoned, and he was asking her what she wanted? "What...do I want?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," he said.

She looked down, noticing how exposed she was, and began buttoning up her shirt. Her anger was withering under his gaze, and all that was left was intense sadness. Was he playing games with her? "I want to know...why you stopped."

Vash paused. "It's not going to make any sense."

"This currently doesn't make any sense!" she almost shouted.

Vash looked down. "I can't...get involved with anyone without getting them into danger. It might not be my brother, and it might not be his gang out to get me, but I'm always looking over my shoulder for the next attack. I can't relax. I'll make a mistake. I'll do something stupid. I'll be caught off-guard, and then..." Vash shook his head. "I can't risk it."

Meryl was frustrated to say the least, however, she did feel compassion for what he had been through and she knew he had reasons for saying these things. "But this is your _life_. Right now. Are you really going to live like this for the rest of your existence? Are you going to hide from it, alone, forever?" Meryl paused, lowering her gaze. "Some things..." she finished quietly, "are worth the risk."

Vash didn't know what to say. She was right, but he was right, too. "There are other things. I'm not...I don't even know what I am. I'm way older than you. I don't know what my lifespan even is, considering my sisters are all survivors of the Great Fall as well, and they're still going strong even as they're powering cities..."

Meryl scoffed. "I don't know what my life expectancy is. No one does. I could always get shot by some crazed lunatic on the street." She shook her head. "Save the excuses. If you don't...just tell me if you've changed your mind...about what you said earlier."

He sighed. "I haven't changed my mind," he said quietly. "But there are other things..." he stated inarticulately. "I mean, I can't let you do, _this_, just because I want to." He didn't look at her. "I know you've seen...but still, it's not..." He sighed again. "It's not something I want you to see."

"What, are you talking about your scars?" Meryl asked, almost indignant. Seriously...being told what she wanted?

Vash looked at her, a little uncomfortable. "No...not just them... My whole body...I've got bolts sticking out at odd angles from so many... I could hurt you just by-"

"Are you telling me...that I am sitting here in humiliation...because you are worried you're going to hurt me?" she asked incredulously.

"Humiliation?" he asked in return.

"What the hell, Vash?" She was more than a little frustrated now. "If that's all that's making you feel that way," her mind immediately switching to mitigating risk, "then, then...I could fish out my old pair of thomas chaps..."

Vash stood there in disbelief for a moment. He couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

"Is that..." he asked, confused and a little intrigued, "What you want?"

Meryl sighed again, and this time, none of the anger remained. She was too tired to continue with this conversation. She just couldn't do it. She just couldn't come out and say she wanted him to just...love her.

"Never mind," she said flatly. "I don't know what I was thinking. I think you're right: we should get some sleep." Meryl sat there, waiting for Vash to leave, but he didn't. The longer she waited, the sadder she got, and the sadder she got, the more tears welled up in her eyes. The tears started to fall and she covered her face with her arm to try and hide them.

Suddenly, she felt his arms around her in an embrace. "I'm sorry," he said as he held her, and she could tell by the tone of his voice that he was apologizing for everything that had happened that night. "I...I shouldn't have...asked you that so suddenly. I mean, it took me a whole day of thinking to put it into words what I needed to say to you.

Meryl wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder. "I already know what I want," she said, holding him tighter.

Vash was surprised. "You...do?"

Meryl nodded her head. "Uh huh."

"Oh..." Vash said, and waited for a reply. Finally, he asked. "Do you...want to tell me?"

Meryl shook her head. "No, not right now."

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A/N: So there...some resolution, yes? At least they know they like each other. At least, I think they know they like each other... It is a little questionable I suppose... But there is plenty more story for actual resolution to occur!

Hardest. Chapter. To. Write. Ever.

To those who have reviewed, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! To those who haven't, REVIEW PLEASE!


	30. chapter 30

Thanks to TrisakAminawn and Sugar Pill for exceptionally thorough reviews. Alright, attempt #2 for chapter 30...

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Oh no. This was not good. Not good at all…

Milly wringed her hands as she watched the patient lying peacefully in the bed next to her. He was sleeping soundly at the moment, but just a few minutes before…she didn't even want to think about it! Vash had entrusted his brother to her, but she couldn't do anything to help him at the moment.

Knives had lost consciousness earlier, which, once the shock had worn off, Milly had found rather odd. In fact, it wasn't the first time she had seen him go down for no reason. In general, the man seemed to have his wits about him, but Milly began to wonder as Doc examined him in the sick bay. Doc could find nothing wrong with him. It was the strangest thing. It was as if Knives every once in a while was just…shutting down.

She had been waiting for Knives to come to and wondering over all the time Knives had spent alone away from his brother. She wondered what kind of person could hurt Vash like that. It was true that she didn't know all the details, but still. Vash seemed to have faith in him, but Milly, well, she just wasn't entirely sure about this. His behavior was so strange towards her. He treated her with respect most of the time, but sometimes she caught him looking at her and it was as if he was waiting for her…to change, or to be someone else. Milly couldn't explain it. She could just sense it, and she had come to the conclusion that something was seriously wrong with Knives.

Oh, how right she was…

When Knives regained consciousness, she smiled and greeted him. She was expecting him to give her that same look that was recognition and need and regret all rolled into one. However, that's not what she saw.

The first expression to cross Knives' face was unadulterated fear. The second expression to cross Knives' face was confusion. The third expression to cross Knives' face was rage: pure, unbridled rage. Before she could move, he had his hand around her throat and was squeezing so hard, she was having trouble breathing.

"Where am I" he seethed.

She couldn't have answered him even if she wanted to.

"Who are you? What have you done with Vash?" His eyes shifted from side to side. "Where is Rem?"

Milly was pulling as hard as she could at the hand on her throat, but it wouldn't budge an ich. She was beginning to get dizzy. She knew she would lose consciousness soon, so she did the only thing she could do.

Milly hauled back and punched Knives in the face as hard as she could.

She fell back onto the floor coughing, gasping for air. Knives was shaking his head, trying desperately to get a grasp of what had just happened, but he seemed distracted. "Got…to find…a terminal," he muttered. He pulled the IV out of his neck with one hand and snapped off electrodes with the other. The machines started going wild. Milly used this moment as an opportunity to get Doc. She ran as fast as she could out of the room down the hall to the laboratory.

"Mr. Doc, sir," Milly rushed, her voice hoarse, "Knives…he…"

"My god, what happened?" Doc said as he took stock of the woman in the doorway.

"Knives has gone crazy. He attacked me out of nowhere! Please come quick!" With that, she turned and ran back to the room, not wanting to let Knives out of her sight. She was big enough to defend herself, but what if he got a hold of someone who wasn't?

When she got back, Knives was still there, sitting at one of the many terminals scattered all through the medical bay. "Stay back!" he shouted at her. "Don't come near me, you imposter." His fingers were moving so fast on the keyboard. She didn't know what he was doing or why he thought she was an imposter, but the whole episode was giving her the creeps. "I've got to find him," Milly heard him mutter to himself. "What did you do to him?" he shouted at her again.

Suddenly, his rapid fingers quit moving altogether. "Oh…no…" he whispered. Knives looked at her like he had just seen something that was truly horrifying. Then he started typing again. "Where are we?" he demanded.

"We're…we're on the SEEDS ship…in New Oregon," Milly started shakily. "Remember? We got here a few days ago. Vash was here, but he had to leave. Do you remember?" she asked again.

"New Oregon?" he snarled. "Where the hell is New Oregon? And who the_ hell_ are you?" Suddenly, Knives visibly blanched. "Did we…have we landed?" he asked no one in particular. He looked back at the screen, reading intently. "Stampede?" he questioned aloud.

Milly heard Doc right behind her, along with four very large orderlies. "Please, Miss Milly, step aside for a moment, if you would dear," he said kindly.

She did as he asked. Knives looked up and saw the group entering the room and his eyes grew impossibly wider. "No…no… Don't come near me!" he shouted. As the orderlies approached him, restraints in hand, he continued to shout. He fought as hard as he could, but he didn't stand a chance against the four men who were approaching him. They pinned him down long enough for Doc to come up quickly and disable both of Knives' arms.

As Knives felt his appendages become dead weights, he looked at them in horror, as if realizing for the first time that they weren't really his arms. He began screaming incomprehensible sounds as Doc tapped the air bubbles out of a syringe full of sedatives. One of the orderlies pulled Knives' head to the side and Doc plunged the needle into Knives' neck.

Knives struggled for a few seconds, then began to twitch, and finally relaxed completely. After a few moments, the orderlies made sure the restraints on Knives' legs were secure, then lifted him back onto the bed. They then restrained him further by securing his arms to the sides of the bed, even though they were non-functioning at the moment.

Milly's breath was erratic. She didn't know what was going on or what had caused Knives to lose control like that. When she was sure it was safe, she walked into the room and looked at the computer screen. What she saw surprised her. She was looking at an old newspaper article, dated back over twenty years ago.

Why was Knives reading about…Lost July? Had he forgotten...the Great Fall?

Oh… What was she going to tell Vash?

* * *

Twenty three iles outside of December, Vash lay wide awake while Meryl slept soundly in his arms. He held her, her face relaxed and peaceful. Vash felt anything but. He had to fight the urge to squeeze her closely to him and hold her tight. He felt…happy for a change. He liked being with her. It felt good to be with her. And feeling good and happy made him feel nervous.

This was going to end. Something bad was going to happen. This kind of thing could not last.

His time with Rem hadn't lasted. It couldn't have lasted forever. He knew that, but it shouldn't have ended the way it did. Wolfwood died because of Vash. If Wolfwood had just followed his gut instinct and shot first, he would still be alive.

Wolfwood's death had been a cruel reminder that his way of life was deadly to mere mortals. They couldn't make the choices he made and survive. Sometimes Vash wondered if that had been the whole point of Knives sending Wolfwood to befriend him. "You're not like them. You are superior to them. You shout 'Love and Peace,' but they couldn't live that way even if they tried…"

He knew Meryl thought he was a hypocrite, but she just didn't understand. Letting someone in was like painting a huge red bulls-eye on them. Meryl was sure to wind up as just another casualty along the way. He should have stopped this when he had the chance, as soon as he had met her. Vash should have lost her right after he found out about the stupid surveillance plan. He had known it was stupid, but he played along anyway. It would have been simple to lose those two, but for some reason, he liked having the company.

Vash didn't know exactly why he had been willing to let them tag along, but he thought it might have something to do with Meryl's vehement resistance to the idea that he was actually who everyone else instantly assumed he was. Usually he had to act like a completely inept goofball to throw people off, but with her it was different. She just couldn't square the rumor of the monster she had been assigned to locate with the man she found, and he couldn't help but like that feeling. Even though they had gotten themselves out of and into trouble on several occasions, it still took her weeks to finally accept the fact that her junior partner had been right about him all along.

If he really thought about it, he knew he had used the girls to feel a little bit normal. Being around them let him forget what he had to do, that he had to find and face his brother. It was irresponsible and he knew it, but he just couldn't help himself. He liked them being there. It was almost like he had real friends.

Of course, in order to preserve this feeling, he did some really stupid stuff. He let the two of them get in way too deep. Even as early as when he was fighting Monev, he knew he was in trouble. Meryl hadn't just followed him, she had tried to protect him. She had been so reckless as to put herself in between that man and himself. And even after she saw what kind of enemy he was up against, she still searched him out in order to help. He remembered yelling at her that day. He hadn't meant to hurt her, but he knew that if he didn't do something, she would have followed him to her death.

And it wasn't just her. He had revealed altogether too much shortly after that incident. She saw his scars. It wasn't something he planned for, but it happened, and he remembered her surprising reaction…surprising in the way she hadn't immediately bolted out of his room and found some paperwork to file.

He thought he had really shaken her off his trail after Augusta. He thought he would never see her again, and that made him sadder than he wanted to admit. But that terrorist priest had to find him and drag him back into his brother's game. And that meant that Meryl was sure to find him, too.

The fact that he was kind of looking forward to that scared him.

And then he'd gone and done the stupidest of all stupid things and brought his brother back to civilization-without a plan, without an exit strategy, without anything. He just waltzed back into town, threw his brother down on a spare mattress and resumed his game of house with the insurance girls. Really, what had he been thinking?

It could have all gone so horribly wrong…

And the fact that he was even contemplating the _idea_ of a relationship seemed completely ridiculous. Was it possible for him to actually allow someone to get this close? What if letting Meryl get this close was doing her more harm than it was doing him good? He still felt like a fool for how he had acted that night. He had just wanted so much and the possibility that he could actually have it kind of made his sense of reason go off for a little while. Instead, his body just went on autopilot, feeling and sensing and touching and…

It had been so unreal to feel the way he felt. He had spent so long wishing to hold somebody close, to have her near him, to be with her, but whenever he thought about it, he felt completely hopeless. There were so many reasons why it was a bad idea. Why would a rational woman like Meryl see any point to being with a man like him?

It wasn't like there was much he could offer her. He couldn't offer her security. He didn't have a home. His immediate family was kind of crazy. Hell, he was a little on the emotionally sinusoidal side himself. His extended family…wasn't human. He didn't know how long they would have together, or if they should even be together. He felt so much uncertainty. He wanted to give her everything, but on every front, he kept coming up short.

She shifted in his arms and he noticed that the suns were beginning to shine over the horizon. He suddenly felt anxious that he had spent all his time with her worrying about why this shouldn't be and now it was almost over. What if she didn't feel the same way? She hadn't told him what she wanted, and he didn't know why. It had made him feel helpless and exposed. She knew his hand, but he had no clue what she was holding. What if this was the closest they would ever get to being together? And he'd just wasted it all worrying about things he didn't have control over anyway?

She shifted again as he lay still, holding her loosely. He could sense that she was beginning to wake up. He knew she was an early riser, but he thought it was kind of funny despite himself that she might actually get up at the crack of dawn.

He feigned unconsciousness as she stirred and almost winced at the sudden gasp he heard her make when she woke up completely. What did that mean? He felt her push herself up and stop for several moments, then very gently, she took his hand and raised it so that she could get up without disturbing him. Once she was standing, she carefully settled it back down by his side. He suddenly felt cold without her near.

Why didn't he just show her he was awake? He was too nervous to face her after hours of thinking about only her. He didn't know what to say or how to handle the situation. Waking up together? After last night? He didn't know where to begin.

Vash heard Meryl shuffling around the house, from the kitchen to the front room to the bathroom and back again. It sounded to him like she was getting packed up and ready to go. Maybe she meant to leave without saying anything to him…

Vash lay stock still while he listened to her quietly moving around the house. He didn't know what to do. Should he apologize for last night? Should he just let her make her decision and let her go? Maybe she knew it was a bad idea to get involved with him. She hadn't woke him up…maybe she was trying to sneak out.

Maybe that's what she wanted…

He lay there quietly, feeling completely out of place, listening to the small noises coming from other parts of the house. He didn't move until he heard the front door open and close. After that, he heard Meryl walking quickly down the front steps. Only at this point did he sit up and rub his tired eyes. He didn't know what to think. Had he come on too strong? Had she really wanted to know what he needed? Maybe she had just asked thinking that he wouldn't have an answer.

Vash held his head in his hands for several minutes as he sat slumped over, trying to figure out the situation. Should he stay here? Should he go after her? Should he wait?

Vash took a deep breath and stood up. It had been a few minutes since she left, but he could still probably catch up to her. He made his way to the door and threw it open, surprised to find that on the other side, Meryl was reaching for the doorknob herself. She, in turn, looked startled to see him, but after a moment, her mouth curved into a shy smile. Vash couldn't help but mirror her expression. He noticed she had a bundle in her arms.

"Hey…did I wake you?" she asked quietly as she smiled.

Vash was surprised by her demeanor towards him. She wasn't leaving him. He scratched the back of his neck. "Ah…nope! I just woke up!" he said cheerfully, and this time he actually felt that way. He backed up to let her inside. "So…" he started, "what do you have there?"

Meryl looked up at him. "I remembered Ms. Kenley's sons being pretty tall, so I went over to see if she had any extra clothes you could borrow." She handed him the bundle. There was a pair of jeans and a blue sweater. "I mean, I can't take you to the Central Office looking like…_that_." She smiled as she reached up and tugged on his blood-stained collar.

"The Central Office?" he asked, a little surprised.

"What?" she asked. "You don't want to see where I work?" She was teasing him…

"No, it's not that," he said, a little troubled. "Isn't that kind of like…walking into the lion's den?"

Meryl sighed and turned around. "Yeah, I guess it is too dangerous. I suppose you could head back to the ship and just wait there for me while I tender my resignation."

Vash balked. "What? But you love your job!"

Meryl looked away. "I've…I've been thinking about this for a good while now. We both know I got lucky on this assignment. Really lucky. You weren't like the rumors said at all. Now that I have this case under my belt, I'll be the first on a very short list of people to deal with the most high-risk cases. I get the feeling that I'll be the last line of defense for the company before a 'specialist' is called in."

Vash thought for a moment. A "specialist," that was code for a government assassin. "So…you're just going to give everything up? But you've worked so hard!"

Meryl looked at him with a pained expression. "What am I supposed to do? The things I've seen while I've followed you… If I had had any clue as to how depraved and evil some people could be, I never would have taken your assignment in the first place! It was the first time I had been to the outer regions before…I was pretty naïve…"

Meryl? Naïve? That was an interesting thought… Although he did recall her early attempts at winning over hardened criminals with boxes of pastries.

"Anyway," she continued. "If you're worried about money, I have savings and lots of experience doing lots of things…and you could always get a job." She smiled at him.

"I'm not worried about money, I just want to be sure you're making the right decision. It just seems…kind of sudden…"

"Well it's not sudden! I've been thinking about this since Milly took me off the case almost a week ago." Meryl looked at him, daring him to fight with her on this. "Besides," she began more quietly, "if I stay with Bernardelli's, there's no guarantee I'll be able to have what I want…" She trailed off.

"Oh," he said quietly, wondering if she would continue.

"Well!" she didn't. "Get changed! I spotted some ration packs in the cupboard, so we get to have breakfast this morning. Those things are like cardboard," she muttered, "but at least we won't starve…"

"Yeah," he said a little disoriented, "I'll be right out." He began to move toward the bathroom, but stopped. Things felt unfinished. Despite everything he had thought about all night, he knew he had been honest last night when he told her what he wanted, and he definitely knew he didn't want to just forget last night and act as if nothing had happened. He saw her quirk an eyebrow at him.

"Oh yeah," he said, trying to sound nonchalant, as he walked over to her and scooped her into a one-armed hug. "Good morning," he said quietly into her ear.

She slowly wrapped her arms around him, a blush spreading across her face. She spoke up shyly, "Good morning to you, too."

* * *

A/N: So! They DO like each other! Also, what the hell is up with Knives? Psychotic break-down? I'm thinking that might be the case… Another fine installment in the increasingly lengthy saga known as The Long Slow Goodbye…

Reviews please! Concrit welcome! Thanks again to TrisakAminawn, Infinite Devil Machine, and Ducky Dame for help on the last chapter. Great suggestions!


	31. chapter 31

A/N: Just wanted to give a quick thank you to Sugar Pill for the extensive brainstorming and beta-ing for this chapter! Also, thanks everybody who reviewed the last chapter! On to the story...

* * *

If they didn't hustle, she was going to be late. Still, she didn't particularly want to hurry.

As they walked together, Meryl couldn't help but glance at Vash every once in a while. He had his hands in his pockets and a faraway look in his eyes. That was, until he saw her staring at him. Then he would turn to her and smile self-consciously, his eyes questioning. She would just smile back. She felt incredible and she wasn't really used to feeling this way. As he looked at her, she wondered if she had _ever_ felt this way.

They arrived at the bus station with about five minutes to spare. Meryl exhaled loudly as she double-checked the schedule one last time, just to be sure. Meryl sat down on a bench and looked around the station. Not much had changed since she last saw this place. Last time she took a bus from this station, it had been her sophomore year of college.

Meryl looked over to Vash, who was looking at a small patch of plump succulents growing near the foundation of the platform. They didn't get too much growing out there, since the closest geoplant was still a few iles away. But even at that distance, some vegetation found a way to grow.

Living so close to a geoplant made the land in this area very valuable, but very dangerous as well. Bandits had been known to come through and try to take over homesteads. Meryl was a little worried about squatters coming and claiming her home now that her mother wasn't there, but there wasn't much she could do about it at the moment. She couldn't stay there, since Vash needed to go back to the ship and take care of his brother. She could, however, take solace in the fact that many of the residents in the neighborhood were members of the Socialist Libertarian Party. Their main ethos: "Do for others as long as it brings no harm upon you or yours." This was in opposition to the majority National Objectivist League, which advocated cut-throat self-preservation at all costs.

Sometimes Meryl wondered why people even bothered to form political parties, though. The government was under a near-constant state of martial law. That meant most important officials were appointed anyway. It was probably just an attempt at normalcy in a climate of constant uncertainty.

"I could come with," Vash cut into her thoughts, his voice apprehensive. He sat down beside her.

Meryl groaned. "It was your idea to hang back at the house!"

"I know, I just...worry."

Sighing, Meryl attempted to reassure him. "We both know it would be a rookie mistake for you to accompany me. The Central Office is practically run by the Feds. The place will be crawling with operatives. I'm just going to go in, hand the Chief my letter of resignation, then come back. It'll be simple."

"So much could go wrong." Vash said without looking at her. He could see the bus approaching off in the distance.

"But it won't," Meryl assured him. He cocked an eyebrow and looked at her seriously. "Trust me! I'm very self-sufficient! This will probably be the safest, most trouble-free thing I've done in a long time."

They sat in silence until the bus arrived. Meryl was about to get up, but Vash gently grasped her fingertips. She looked back at him and saw worry in his eyes. She squeezed his hand. "I promise I'll be careful," she tried to reassure him. She wondered if he had always worried about her this much or if it was brought on by what had recently happened between them.

He held on for a few more seconds, then released her hand. Meryl smiled at him and stood looking at his face for a moment, then turned and boarded the bus. She was carrying only an envelope with her resignation letter inside. She wore her standard uniform, all fifty derringers locked and loaded, but he still found himself worrying for her safety. After a few moments, she located a window seat and waved to him. He smiled and waved back to her. She settled in as the bus began to move. He watched until he couldn't see the bus through all the dirt it had kicked up.

Vash sat for several minutes more, looking in the direction the bus had gone, but finally decided it would be best if he returned to the house. He got up and stuck his hands back in his pockets, his posture going to hell. He was mostly in his own little world, debating whether or not he should allow himself to have any hopes of this going anywhere. It had only been a few hours, but so much had changed from yesterday to today. He knew they couldn't go back to the way they were, but could they really go forward?

From around the corner, a vehicle spun on a dime and raced towards Vash. It was all he could do to dodge out of the way. He leaped onto someone's porch and skidded to a stop, trying to assess the situation. There were four people in the jeep, no weapons he could see. He was at a poor vantage point, though, and the vehicle was traveling fast. The vehicle didn't even slow down as it passed by him. It continued down the street until it turned the corner at the end of the block, disappearing from view.

Vash tried to relax a little bit. They didn't appear to be after him, just crappy drivers. He caught his breath, looking over his shoulder at where the jeep had turned and exhaled a relieved breath.

When Vash got back to the house, he fished the spare key Meryl had given him out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He came inside and closed the door, leaning against it. This was the first time he had been alone in the house. It was so strange being so close to where Meryl grew up. He really didn't know anything about her childhood. He didn't even know what the deal was with her mom being gone. Meryl hadn't told him and he hadn't asked. He knew she was tight-lipped about her family on a good day and if she didn't want to talk about it, she wouldn't.

He moved over to a shelf which held a few thin photo albums and several awards. He looked over the trophies and ribbons. Meryl had apparently been a pretty good shot as a child, and not a bad toma rider, either. He took one of the photo albums off the shelf and blew at its dusty coating. They were mostly baby pictures. Meryl had been adorable: shy and serious at the same time. Meryl's parents looked young. Her father beamed in every photograph. Her mother appeared reserved, but there was an intensity in her gaze that he had often seen on Meryl's face.

At the time these pictures were taken, his mug shot was just beginning to circulate on wanted posters. He put the pictures up.

Vash moved over to the couch and sat down, but after a while, he got restless. He walked to the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat. He only found some more ration packs and canned vegetables. He contemplated going to the bar, but it was a little early for that, even for him. He decided to investigate the house. He didn't want to intrude, since he knew Meryl would probably kill him if she found him snooping, but he wanted to know more about her. They said curiosity killed the cat, but he had the good fortune not to be a cat. Starting with the top floor, he began looking around.

The master bedroom was empty. It hadn't been lived in for a while. He could tell by the thick dust that had settled over everything in the room. He lingered a moment at the doorway, but the room made him feel isolated and alone. He turned and went across the hall to the other bedroom. It was obviously Meryl's. He smiled as he saw that nearly everything in the room was either white or purple. He had to give it to her: the girl knew what she liked. On the immaculately organized desk stood stationary, fountain pens, and a miniature toma statue. On the other side of the room stood a small book case filled with books. Vash looked over them and saw every kind of genre imaginable: mystery, textbooks, various children's books, science fiction, adventure, how-to-draw books. He was fairly impressed. Books were hard to come by and these had obviously been well taken care of. There couldn't have been more than 20, but that was a huge collection for a family to have out in the desert, and especially for a child.

Still, he couldn't get over how young she really was. He knew she could take care of herself, but without her actually standing here, he was having trouble remembering her as an adult. She had probably only been on her own for what, five years? He had been on his own since he was two... Did it really matter, though? Wasn't it just one more thing he could use to talk himself out of pursuing this? Would she ever understand the vast gulf that lay between them?

His breath caught in his throat for a moment. It was possible that some day she might... When Doc had been explaining the whole idea of imprinting, he had mentioned elongated life spans for people who were exposed to a fraction of the radiation that Meryl had been. Was it okay for him to hope this would be the case? Doc had also mentioned the correlation between his newly darkened hair and plant decay...

What if she outlived him?

He needed to get out of this room. He practically tripped all the way downstairs. When he got back down to the first floor, he walked around for a few minutes. The rooms hadn't changed: there was a living room, a sitting room, a bathroom, a dining room, and a kitchen. He walked into the kitchen again, checking the pantry one more time. He pulled out one of the ration packs after all.

As he was gnawing on a protein bar, his eyes fell upon a small, forgettable door a few feet away from the pantry. He was surprised he hadn't seen it before. Maybe there was some better food in there...

Expecting to find a cupboard, he was surprised when the little door opened down into a cellar. The really odd thing was that it smelled like canned air and...gun powder. There was a light switch by his shoulder and he flicked it on. He couldn't make much out, so he decided to go down and take a look. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. He let out an impressed whistle.

The small cellar was covered from wall to wall with guns, weapons, and ammunition.

As he looked around, he saw an old political banner strung across the ceiling: "Don't Tread on Us." He looked around again, still shocked by the sheer amount of guns and ammunition that was being kept in this house... Vash turned, surveying all the different varieties of weapons. There were several racks devoted solely to derringers. Another wall was devoted to handguns. He picked up a Glock and regarded it a moment. He automatically pushed in the magazine catch and caught the empty magazine in the palm of his hand. After a moment, he slid it back into place. It wasn't his first pick when it came to firearms, but he'd known someone who preferred that type of weapon.

There were several varieties of revolvers, some quite beautifully crafted. He touched a few gently, picking up one that had a mother-of-pearl inlay in the silver metal grip. He felt its satisfying weight in his hand and wondered how it handled. He spun the barrel, listening to the sound it made. After a few more moments, Vash carefully returned the gun to its rightful place. They all looked to have been well taken care of. He turned around and surveyed the rest of the room. Beneath the stairs, he found grenade launchers and several different types of grenades and incendiaries. He opened a munitions box to discover a few semi-automatic rifles. A shelf holding boxes upon boxes of ammunition took up the remaining wall.

Yep. Everything you needed to start a small war... What kind of family was this?

He looked back to the banner hanging on the wall. The Socialist Libertarian slogan. Vash wondered who was involved with the party in Meryl's family. Her parents were obviously members. Was Meryl, too?

Just when he thought he'd had a pretty good idea of Meryl's life, he found this. After looking at the weapons for a while longer, he climbed back up the stairs. Living on this planet was hard, but he just hadn't expected Meryl's family to be so...prepared. As he got to the first floor and closed the door, he thought about his own gun, now sitting in the desert. He missed that gun. Sometimes he even felt unbalanced without it at his hip. But he was glad he didn't have to arm himself. He had the machine gun in case of emergencies, but his colt - he didn't need it anymore. His brother was "taken care of," he and Meryl were approaching some semblance of a relationship, and things were looking up. Life was pretty good.

A knock on the door drew his attention away from his musings. Before he could answer it, the person on the other side had begun knocking again. He knew it wouldn't be Meryl, no matter how much he wished it would be, but he was completely unprepared for what he found.

Ms. Kenley had her neck bandaged up, but it was still bleeding through. She looked stricken. "Thank god you're here!" she exclaimed. "I have to tell somebody! Somebody has to do something!"

"What happened?" Vash asked, his eyes wide.

Ms. Kenley began to sink to her knees. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry... I didn't know it would end up like this..." She was sobbing.

Vash looked outside, scanning for enemies. When he saw no one, he collected Ms. Kenley and brought her inside. He sat her down at the kitchen table. The woman was still sobbing as he came to sit next to her. "May I?" he asked, motioning to the cloth around her neck. She nodded her head slightly, a hiccup escaping her mouth. Vash uncoiled some of the gauze from her neck. It was a knife wound and looked pretty bad, but it didn't appear to be life-threatening. He placed the bandage around her wound again.

"This is my fault!" she wailed again. "What have I done?"

"Please, try to calm down and tell me what happened," Vash pleaded.

"They made me..." she started. "They threatened me that if I didn't tell them, they would kill me." She took in a shuddering breath. "I didn't know they were going to set up a trap for Margaret!" Ms. Kenley continued to sob.

"Who is Margaret?"

"Meryl's mother! They were trying to get information about the Stampede from Meryl, and they were going to use Margaret to lure her to them. I don't know if they had a buyer or if they were just hoping to sell that man's head to the highest bidder, but they were after Vash the Stampede!"

Vash was confused. He didn't realize he was involved in Mrs. Stryfe's disappearance. His mind made a logical leap. "You...were a lookout?"

Ms. Kenley took his hands in hers and looked at him intently, her eyes full of guilt. He'd nailed it. He remembered the jeep from earlier and his heart sank. He could almost taste the fear in the back of his throat.

The woman was still explaining herself. Vash was already ahead of her and was walking out the door. Ms. Kenley followed close behind. "I tried to resist. You have to believe me, but someone else tipped them off that Meryl got here yesterday and when they came looking for her this morning and didn't find her, they told me they would kill me if I didn't tell them where she was. I knew they meant to do it, too. These are men you don't mess around with... And she had mentioned she was leaving on the bus this morning."

Vash stopped, realizing he didn't have a vehicle or a weapon. He ran back inside, still being trailed by Ms. Kenley.

"I'm so sorry," she continued to mumble, and sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands.

Vash ran downstairs, trying very hard not to think about his pounding heart or his mind screaming at him to hurry up. He quickly picked up the silver revolver and some speed loaders. He loaded them quickly and made sure the gun was fully loaded as well. Then he grabbed a holster, belting it across his waist and securing it around his right thigh. He started to go up, but reconsidered. He picked up a few grenades, then bounded back up the stairs.

He laid out his haul on the kitchen table and went to get his bag. Ms. Kenley looked at what he'd brought up with wide eyes. He returned, throwing the articles in the bag. "Ms. Kenley." No response. He shook the woman by the shoulders. "Ms. Kenley. Do you have a vehicle?"

The woman looked rattled, but nodded her head yes.

"I need to borrow it. I saw the men going after Meryl this morning and they've already gotten the jump on me." He tried to remain as calm as possible. "Can I please borrow your car?"

She realized what Vash was saying and suddenly sprang to her feet. "You have to save her! There's no telling what these men are capable of! Come on!" She quickly made her way through the door and down the front steps.

Vash was right behind her.

* * *

A/N: And there you have it...just when things look like they're resolving, more problems arise! Why oh why can't it ever be simple?

Because simple is boring!

We've got some major action coming up on the horizon. I'm actually really looking forward to writing the next few chapters. That's a good sign! Please review. :) It makes me feel like people are actually enjoying this! (If you're not enjoying this, you should probably let me know, too... I have been known to change things upon suggestion.) Again, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review and to Sugar Pill for all the help! :)


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